Three years we have been married . . . and I thought you might like to read a bit of an insider's-view of our wedding day. :) That is, the whole day, including behind the scenes, from the perspective of the bride!
My brother and I drove home from the rehearsal dinner on Friday, June 24, 2009, and I was in a tizzy of excitement. It had been a busy day of rushing around town, purchasing coffee and creamer for the reception, plus flowers for my make-your-own-toss-bouquet, but everything culminated in our very organized rehearsal (thanks to our pastor!), and the lovely romantic rainy steak dinner in John's parents' backyard. Tomorrow was THE day!
I still had to pack for the honeymoon, so I was rushing about working on that, and trying to keep both John's things and mine to a single carry-on, while my bridesmaids chatted and did their nails. By about 1 a.m., we all decided to go to bed, ready or not, and my nails would just have to get done in the morning.
I slept in my sister's room with her that night, and awoke around 7 for my hair appointment at 8. I don't remember if I had any real devotions besides praying in the shower, as was my habit. I slipped into a snap-up shirt and my dear friends insisted I eat breakfast--of course, I'm not the type ever to skip breakfast!
It was a 10-15 minute drive to town for the hair appointment, and I thought that we would have plenty of time to get ready for our 11:00 wedding. (I think the girls were all supposed to arrive at 10:30 or earlier for pictures.) Unfortunately, I threw the hair-dresser a curve ball by telling her that I had re-thought the style she had loosely put together at the trial two weeks earlier. Tears started to spring to my eyes when I saw how "big" she was teasing it around my head, so she combed it down until I was happier. 9:00 came and brought the florist to the salon, who dropped off the spray roses I'd requested for my hair (I didn't even get to see her!) and still my hair was not done.
Finally, I left and drove home, fighting back tears. Ahhh. It just wasn't like I had envisioned my wedding hair to be . . . and I arrived home where my bridesmaids were all happily getting ready together, and their hair wasn't quite like I had envisioned it, either. One tried to comfort me with "Just think--in a few hours, it will all be over, and you'll be heading off on your honeymoon!" but it just made me cry harder, because I had been so looking forward to this big day which we'd been planning in minute detail for nine and a half months.
Now we were crunched for time, too, since it was a half-hour drive to the church and it was already around 10. The girls energetically attacked me--one painting my finger and toe nails, one starting to put makeup on my face and dear, calm Leah started fixing my hair. I remember when Jenni started to put something that looked like foundation on my face, and I reacted with a "WAIT! What is that stuff?"
"It's very light, Gretch. My auntie with the ginger hair wears it."
"Ok!"
And then someone started trying to put eye-liner on me, and I bristled, "Can Sarah do it?" (We do our eyeliner similarly.) ;-)
Quietly, Mom and Dad ushered one, then two carloads of bridesmaids out the door while Leah and I finished preparation. We slipped on my dress, and I immediately regretted not making a bigger fuss about how low-cut it had turned out at the final fitting. Mom hurriedly ran to find some lace. Something borrowed. Much better. Except that I wished I had had that bow removed, too . . . oh well. It was still gorgeous, and it was my primary something new.
I had no idea what time it was, but Leah assured me that a princess is never late :) and that the wedding would wait for us. I took a deep breath, rubbed off a bunch of the plum eyeshadow that looked so foreign on my face, and we headed down to the car with my parents.
It was actually a blessing, I think, that we had a half-hour drive to relax before starting the wedding itself. Dad's phone rang and Mom picked it up, telling someone our ETA of noon. (I found out later that it was John himself and I was sorry that I didn't get to talk with him!) But the rest of the drive was peaceful. It was half an hour of country roads, and I breathed, prayed, quietly sang some hymns to myself, and told myself that it would all be OK as soon I was holding John's hand.
Our amateur photographer greeted our car and got some neat shots of Mom and Heidi putting on my veil and giving me the bouquet. Another friend hurried to find John, who had my earrings. He'd been to the jeweler the day before to get our wedding bands engraved, my engagement ring cleaned, and my earring fixed, but the earrings had been forgotten until now. Something old.
Soon, we all processed up the sidewalk to the church. I took in the loveliness of my roses and Queen Anne's Lace, pausing to pull out a gaudy rhinestone cross pick and thoughtlessly toss it on the ground. Next we went to the church basement, aka "holding pen," where my mom-in-law-to-be had been entertaining the ten little ones who were supposed to walk the aisle. I mildly panicked when I realized that none of the flower girls had the wreaths Heidi and I had spent hours crafting or their baskets. We were being pressured to begin the wedding without them, but thankfully someone ran to the nursery building across the parking lot to get the box where we'd left them. (I think it actually took two trips, since the building was locked!)
Finally, we began. The cream carpet was rolled in and the bridesmaids filed in to Handel's "Largo" from the opera Xerxes (a piece I'd sung in high school for NYSSMA). Then the trumpet sounded, played by a former math student, and he and the piano triumphantly began Patrick Doyle's "Non Nobis Domine," as taken from the movie Henry V. The sweet little flower girls took their turns sauntering down the aisle and dropping dried lavender each in her own way. Next came the little ring bearer, who was actually carrying the rings in a little wooden box.
At last the music climaxed, and Dad and I stepped through the double doors. The congregation rose in droves and tears sprang to my eyes again, but they were happy tears this time. John waited, smiling at the other end, and so many of my dear friends and family beamed at us as we regally marched. It was everything I had dreamed, and I tried to take in every moment.
I had been right; as soon as I was holding John's hand, everything was better. From then on, the ceremony went smoothly as we sang the hymns John had requested, enjoyed the quiet moments of his pastor's short sermon, and feelingly repeated the vows we had painstakingly written for each other. I remember listening to the sermon and thinking, "please include the gospel . . . please include the gospel . . . excellent, yes! . . .wow . . . excellent!"
Early in our engagement, John had declared to me his intention not to kiss me until our wedding day. It was to be my first kiss ever, and as the vows concluded and our pastor was giving us a charge, John and I locked eyes and realized the big moment was about to come.
It was the softest, sweetest, most wonderful thing ever. :)
We were man and wife! We all sang "Non Nobis Domine," then, and even the little ones sang as best they could:
*Smile*
What a wonderful story, wonderfully told! I love Non Nobis Domine, of course!
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