A bunch of years ago today (April 29, 2006), my husband and I were wedded. (Edited for future reading!)
Let me tell you about our day:
It was a lovely ceremony, even though it wasn’t quite what we had planned.
The place where we had contracted to have the ceremony was a lovely old antebellum home, that had been refurbished and preserved, for special occasions. The grounds were lush and gorgeous, and there was a lake, with a curved wooden bridge, and extensive rose gardens, with multiple trellises and swings and benches and whatnot… We had arranged to have our ceremony out in the rose gardens, and then our reception dinner inside.
And then … it rained. And rained. And rained.
Cue the moving of 200 white folding chairs, ALL the flowers and ribbons and tulle and bows and tables and everything…
So instead of walking across the (straight, and even) bridge over the lake, all my bridesmaids and I got to trip and clipity-clop down 2 flights of a winding staircase in our heels, from the dressing rooms above, to the extremely small staging area, where we’d been forced to move.
My Momma, God love her, for some reason wore a barely-off-white dress, (Well, YOU are hardly one to talk about a white dress, honey!) and couldn’t stop crying. Not even long enough for pictures.
My daughter, who was 3 at the time, had long-since discarded her sweet little dress shoes, and presented herself as my maid of honor in her bare feet.
My son, the ring-bearer, who was four at the time, decided as we were exchanging rings, to cover his face with his hands, as if the sight of our ring ceremony was more than his poor little heart could take.
Thankfully, that was the extent of the kid-crises of the day, though, and all four of our sweet babies were as good as gold the rest of the time.
We included vows to our children within our ceremony, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house as we recited those vows.
We had decided before-hand that we’d not have any music during the actual ceremony… no song dedications, neither of us would sing, etc…
So after the vows, our official (who had not only a perm, but also a mullet, AND an earring!)
said, “By the power vested in me,” etc…
and THEN he said “And as Eric’s first act of love, he’d like to dedicated this song…”
and I thought I might actually die on the spot.
You might think that sounds a little bit mean-spirited, but trust me when I tell you that although my man can tear UP a guitar, the boy could not carry a tune in a bucket with a handle even if you paid him in gold.
Thankfully, my impending panic attack was averted as Eric pointed toward the staircase, where our friend Chad sat with his guitar, and began to sing a song they had written for the occasion.
If I thought that the children’s vows were tear-jerking, the song moment was a sob-fest, for me. Thank God for waterproof mascara!
And then, sooner than you could blink, it was over!
And where normally, you’d have a meandering walk though to the reception…um…we had a tiny problem: Since it rained, our ceremony area had to be in the dining hall, and the chairs were set up for the ceremony, so we all had to vacate so that the staff could rearrange for the reception seating, which included dining tables, and the buffet tables, etc.
And where did we vacate TO?
Oh yeah. Outside. In the rain.
Half of our guests chose to wish us well and be on their way, opting not to hang around (in the rain) waiting for the reception hall to be cleared. The other half milled around, chatting, hanging out in the parking lot, trying to squeeze onto the porch. The wedding party itself got to go upstairs to the dressing rooms.
Half an hour later, and we were ready to roll. We cut the cake, we made our toasts, I kicked off my shoes, and then we pounded tequila like Congress was about to pass a ban on it.
We finished up the night with reservations at the bar in town where we’d met the very first time, where the waitstaff had a couple bottles of champagne on ice, and the band played slow songs all night for us to dance to. (Our wedding band had been cancelled, as soon as it looked like it might rain.)
We spent the night at our friend’s apartment —the same friend, and the same bed, as the night we met, and then we drove to Memphis for our honeymoon. We tripped around Beale Street for two days, and it was two totally glorious days, full of greasy, delicious food, and soulful bluesy rocking music.
To this day, I can’t smell tequila, or hear a Stevie Ray Vaughn song, without remembering our wedding/honeymoon.
And even though we had so much go crazy that day, there’s not a single thing about it that I’d change.
You can hear the original song written for our wedding here.