They got married in a field of wild daisies on the first hot day in June. And from the moment that young bride walked down the grassy aisle on her daddy’s arm, she and her groom (not to mention everyone else) were wiping away tears.
The groomsmen added a dash of humor as they came up the aisle, each pausing to adjust something about the groom’s apparel, or pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from the groom’s brow. And the preacher regaled us with tales of how they met and first impressions (“They’re not as good-looking as Mom made them out to be,” the bride had concluded about those boys next door), before the vows had us all crying once again.
It was a good thing it was an outdoor wedding with plenty of distracting noise, since my girls just had to stand on their chairs half the time to get a good view, and my son felt the need to play with the crackling water bottle the entire time. The girls peppered me with not-so-whispered questions about when the bride would come and wasn’t her dress pretty. As the bride and groom shared their very first kiss in front of all the gathered witnesses, I picked up my younger daughter so she could be sure to see. And I did my own whispering to my girls about how special it was that they had waited to share their kisses with each other.
I didn’t realize how few weddings we’ve been to until I was having to explain to my girls that we were going to a wedding but they were not actually needed as flower girls. Once they got over the shock that not every wedding involves their own personal service as a flower girl, they enjoyed it as only two little girls enthralled with princesses and pretty dresses could. And to make up for the lack of flower girls, they spent the reception running around picking bouquets of daisies and clover and hand-delivering them to the bride.
My little man, not to be out-done by his sisters, collected a daisy in each fist and ran around until he was red from the 100-degree heat. When he started to look a bit woozy, we dumped ice water over his head, much to his delight (we soon had to stop him from dumping every bottle of water over his head, and the red punch as well!). It was a miracle that he had any clothing on, dry or otherwise, by the time we left the reception.
My husband and I sat there feeling a bit old, having watched these two off and on as the sparks had been flying and the friendship growing for the past four years. And of course, every time I looked away from the teary-eyed bride to her bridesmaid sisters, I only started crying anew, thinking of my own sister and the way she cried throughout my own wedding and that of our brother (the rule is never look at my sister during a wedding, or you will be sure to start crying).
Yes, it was a perfect wedding. And not just because there was sunshine and flowers and music and dancing. We left them with wishes that they will be as happy as we. Because young love is sweet and beautiful; we cherish the memories of that time in our lives. But oh young bride and groom, the best is yet to be!