The Daughter and Her Day

My normally disorganized self has been on hyper-drive this week, preparing for my Italy trip with the Carrollton Wind Ensemble. Because I'm quite aware of my weaknesses, I have been laying out all the gobbleygook that is my stuff for weeks. Our daughter, Elizabeth, who has her Dad's packing/sorting/organizing superpowers, offered to help me do my final packing for the trip. We decided to meet up to get our nails done, have lunch, and then try to squeeze everything into two carry-on bags. Her three brothers and sister-in-laws scoffed at the notion. There was some posturing and put-downs on Memorial Day, but Liz does her best work under pressure and when she's underestimated. 

In the days leading up to our planned pack-fest, Liz and Marcus' wedding video came across my Facebook feed. It was their fourth anniversary this week. Think back to four years ago... June 2020, the Year of Our Undoing. We had an amazing wedding planned, another of our do-it-yourself events, at a park in Cave Spring, Georgia. But the actual nuptials were not to be outside, mind you. There was a chapel and a huge old renovated schoolhouse to glamorize and keep everyone dry. Liz has always been in love with the idea of weddings but never, ever was she going to have hers outdoors. When she was a little girl, she would ask me to buy her wedding magazines. Every few years she would decide on a different color scheme for her someday-wedding. During the engagement, she and I mused over colors, ribbon, flowers, ideas. She is our baby (of four) and our only girl. We have done many DIY weddings together for nieces and nephews and brothers, and she has been a bridesmaid many times over (using her Amazon-like skills at snatching myriad bouquets out of the air at the bouquet toss at any wedding she happened to attend. The girl played college basketball and those rebounding abilities come in handy). 

I was so happy for her, this stoic but funny woman who rebuffed many a suitor. She's very tall, beautiful, complex. When Marcus came along, the whole family fell in love with him. Their engagement was short (we don't believe in long ones --if it's the One, let's get on with this party!) Then Covid hit like a literal tsunami. We sent out invitations and kept being assured that the venue would stay open. She and I put together flowers and decor, filling up the dining room where it looked like a wedding bomb had gone off. There were showers where people dropped in and stayed 6-feet apart; gifts and RSVPs began flowing to the house. Three weeks before the wedding, the head count was that 340 guests were coming. Then came the call: the venue was shut down because of the Covid restrictions. 

We were all damaged, maybe permanently, because of the strange things that went on during those years. I most sympathize with the brides and grooms who were forced to change their big plans, but especially the people who died without their loved ones around them. We had both of these things happen to us in close proximity, with the wedding and then the death of my mother-in-law ensconced in a hospital for weeks before she passed. There wasn't much hope going on in June of 2020. 

The rule was that gatherings of more than 50 people were restricted. Our close family has over a hundred people in it, much less friends and church family, business associates and acquaintances. I felt like I was cutting out my heart, to pare down that list to so few. We live right in our small town, on a busy and noticeable corner. Our city councilwoman got permission from the mayor and police chief to turn a blind eye, so we slipped in a few more. Yes, we were having this wedding outside, in our backyard. Compromises were made and life makes a way.

When I watched that wedding video once again this week, for the millionth time, and with tears, I marvel at the grace of God. For all the uncertainty and trials that we were all going through, that day shone as a beacon of hope. While cities were burning with riots and race wars, there was a blissful and God-honoring marriage between two "races" (we are all the human race) going on under our trees. Two families melding and holding one another as brothers and sisters, testifying to the truth that got off the boat with Noah. Children laughed and danced; old Grandaddy threw off his coat and cut a rug too. There was a mist of hope running through the night air and the twinkle lights strung in the trees.  As the crickets sang and we sent off the beautiful couple through the front gate with sparklers and cheers, there was peace on earth in our little universe. Beautiful dream come true.