Mr. and Mrs. Andrew and Corrie P.

July twenty-third dawned hot and sunny.  Corrie had arranged for all of us ‘maids to spend the morning together at a spa.  Makeup, hair, and nails were on our own dime, so each ‘maid purchased her own mix of services, according to what she could afford – but all of us spent the morning together in the relaxation room, with trays full of fruit and unlimited water, coffee, and tea.  When the morning was finished, we were all ready to head to the church and wait . . . it . . . out . . .

If you’ve never been an attendant in a wedding (this was my first time!), you need to understand that the bulk of the wedding day is actually kind of unexciting.  You sit around trying not to ruin your makeup, hair, and nails, checking the clock every thirty seconds, keeping the bride and groom separated and also as serene as possible, and looking for things to keep you busy.

If you’re a groomsman, you don’t even have the hair and nails issue to keep you occupied – instead, you just hang around in a room drinking water (but not too much!  Lest you have to pee while performing your duty later on!) and counting out your cufflinks and waiting for someone to tell you it’s time to get dressed.  At least, this is my impression.

At one point, walking down the hall to scout locations for the “corner prayer” – more on this later – I passed the church nursery, in which six grown up men in tuxes were dancing to some kind of kids’ CD and playing with a bin full of plastic trucks and a toddler-sized toy castle.

It was kind of fun being the matron of honor.  I wore Andrew’s ring on my own wedding ring finger for most of the day, since it fit me perfectly (I have man-sized fingers).  The Best Man wore Corrie’s on his pinky, and I don’t know why I find that so charming, when they do that, but I do.  I had a Bridal Emergency Kit packed into a tin lunch pail, and people used the stuff in it quite often (Vaseline!  Duct tape!  Double sided boob tape!  Shout wipes!  Ibuprofen!  Immodium!  Scissors!)  Anytime Corrie had to use the restroom or otherwise venture out, I got to precede her, shouting “Bride!  Bride coming through!  Men, depart!  Here comes the bride!” In short, I was very busy and important.  In her wedding photo portfolio, there will be dozens of pictures of all of us fussing with our mascara, fussing with Corrie’s mascara, fussing with my mother’s dress, fetching the flowers from the kitchen fridge and then putting them back in it again, checking the clock, eating some grapes (but not too many!  Lest you get unsightly bloating/belly pooch!) etc.  As for the bride – Corrie was serene and not remotely nervous throughout the day.  She truly was acting just like we were about to go maybe grab a pizza later, nothing big, maybe catch a movie.

Her groom, on the other hand, was a delightfully nervous wreck.  My very favorite story of the pre-ceremony will forever be this: the groomsmen were taking pictures at around 2:30, so they all had to get dressed, including boutonnieres.  My sisters and I fetched the bouts (clusters of little red berries) and went to help the boys pin them on.  The tuxedo’d boys surrounded us in a circle and we handed them each their little berry cluster, then assisted those who needed help with the pinning.  When my sister Amanda walked over to Andrew and held out his bout, he was staring vaguely into the corner of the room.  She called his name to catch his attention, and said “here!”  Andrew turned his unfocused gaze in her general direction, and said “Uh, yeah, I don’t know if that’s mine or not, we have to check I guess . . .” and then kind of drifted off, turning his gaze back to the corner.  She looked at me, we burst out laughing, and then I took the bout and pinned it on the groom.  He missed the joke, and is doubtless reading it here for the first time.  He was glassy-eyed, distracted, and a little green up until the church doors were flung open and my sister began her march towards him down the aisle, at which point he, sweetly, wept.

The Professor had stayed home with the children up until the very last minute, making sure they were well rested, fully napped, fed, happy, etc. etc.  In fact, it was so perfectly timed to be last minute, that I started to hyperventilate a bit.  But they made it, with time to spare.  We put both boys into their outfits – Liam in his too small baptism suit, and Jack in his rented tux.

Putting the bride in her dress was, as it usually is, kind of a keystone cops moment.  There were lots of “Augh!  Watch her hair!” and “OMG!  Don’t smear the makeup!” and “Crap, what is caught?  What is that?” type comments.  The dress was floofy and multi-layered, and (like mine) had about a zillion buttons, which we had fun buttoning with a crochet hook.  I have no pictures of this process, but it was full of nervous tittering, for we knew it signaled that the Time Had Arrived.

A little before the wedding, the bride and groom walked separately to a part of the hallway that had a sharp corner, and stood around the corner from one another.  In this way were they able to hold hands and say a pre-wedding prayer together without looking at one another.  I hear it was kind of a sweet moment, but I was busy at that time wrangling my children into their outfits.  In any case, very shortly after this prayer, the time had arrived, and the boys went to take their places at the front of the church.

The ‘maids each walked between the pews to our spots at the front, one at a time, clutching our pinky-red tulips.  I was last.  After I’d reached my place, the Professor took his restraining hands off of an already running Jack, who sprinted down the aisle towards me, clutching his ring pillow and shouting “MAMA!”*

And then the doors were shut.  And Andrew waited.

And then the doors were opened, and the bride began her Walk to Remember.  I told her to keep her eyes on him, and ignore the rest of us.  I hope she did, because his face was pure joy and love.

The ceremony went as ceremonies do.

I remember particularly well a moment when they walked to the back to light the unity candle, while my brother sang Amazing Grace.  They cuddled and whispered, in their own World of Two, while the rest of us gazed in adoration and support, listening to my brother’s astonishing voice.

And then they kissed . . .

. . . processed . . .

. . . and left for the party . . .

*He did great, for about five minutes, and then he went and played with the toddler Legos with his little brother and the babysitter, while we grownups enjoyed a child-free ceremony.