Saturday. Two hours before "go" time. The phone rings. "Hi...Amy? Just reminding you that the wedding is today," said my friend Sue helpfully before arranging for us to share a table. "Thank you, Sue."
Saturday. Twenty minutes before "go" time. Pass Sue who was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt in the Dollar General parking lot. Confused, I tapped my watch at her and began planning an elaborate "stick in your own eye" speech for when I would encounter her later at the wedding.
Saturday. Ten minutes before "go" time. Haven't even ENTERED the building yet and it begins. "Is the wedding THIS week," asked Kristin's sister, Paula, hugging me.
Saturday. Five minutes before "go" time. "You made it (this time)," the mother-of-the-bride squealed before inviting us to sit at any one of the available tables EXCEPT the ones labeled "reserved." I immediately sat at a reserved table, splitting up a loving family in the process. "They can sit over there, right?" I asked, unceremoniously booting the Cochran kids out of their chairs. "Mom, who is that lady," they asked, scared. "I'll tell you later," she whispered, "Just go." But then Sue arrived, miraculously dressed for the occasion, with her party of three so the Cochran kids had to re-locate again. A friendly but unfamiliar couple occupied the table. I made hasty introductions and then asked if they were on the bride's side or the groom's side. Barely listening to their response, I then introduced them to everyone as "The Pennsylvania Deckers." Everyone. Until I discovered, hours later, that their last name wasn't "Decker" at all. But by then...the damage was done. The "Pennsylvania Deckers" were the life of the party...whether they wanted to be or not.
Kristin was gorgeous. Our table sounded like judges on "Project Runway" as everyone remarked upon their favorite part of her dress as she gracefully made her way across the room to her grinning groom. The corset-like ties up the back. The delicate flowers embroidered at her waist. The waterfall rippled effect of her skirt. Our constant watching of "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby" impacted Pastor Brandon's meaningful prayer when Brad and Sydney fist-bumped the amen. I was shushed during the "Blending of Sands" portion of the ceremony when I pointed out the Kristin was raised in Western New York; not the West Indies. "The blending of soils wouldn't have been as symbolically meaningful," Brad explained.
The food was fabulous but bibs are only meant for mature patrons. Many of the guests were shy but not those seated with the Pennsylvania Deckers. We proudly sported our plastic bibs with the handy catch-all pocket. Sydney thought she was the shining star with her side-tied bow but Sue and I won this particular fashion show as, in the process of taking our protective plastic off, we flung them back over our heads. "Do I look like Audrey Hepburn taking a convertible ride," I asked my husband who was inexplicably crawling under the table. Sue, sporting my same look, hooted. "You like like the Flying Nun!" I tried to seek Sydney's opinion, but she was also under the table. Maybe helping her father look for something. "Yeah...that's it," Brad said later. "Maybe we were in search of a little dignity." This...coming from the same man who led our table in the singing of "Sweet Caroline" while the remainder of the room sat mute (in obvious admiration).
We had a wonderful time. The Pennsylvania Deckers would have made outstanding lifelong friends if we'd actually learned their real names. Watching Kristin make this sacred commitment to an honorable young man was so special. Having been blessed to have had Kristin in our youth group, years ago, Brad and I were humbled to be able to witness this next, incredible phase of her life. Kristin and Holly have three more unmarried siblings. Now that we've proved that we can actually arrive at a wedding on its scheduled date, maybe we have a shot at being invited to the next one!
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