That tidal wave of wedding plans I saw looming last May, as my daughter’s wedding day approached, has hit the shore. No fatalities have been reported.
After a couple of weeks of recovery time, I am still dog-paddling out of the rip tide, but my water wings are still inflated and I am smiling.
Like every wedding, there were a zillion glitches, but none large enough to stop us or even make us blush. Basically, I am stone, cold broke, but inside I will be beaming for some time.
My daughter’s wedding was a six-month-long version of the last party I helped her throw. By that, I mean that my creative child has no problem channeling Martha Stewart and putting in days and days of work and preparation to achieve a few hours of the vision she has in her head. She really needs a staff. Instead she has me.
Nevertheless, the result was all that, to the 10th power. To my great astonishment, it all worked. OK, 90 percent of it worked and it required many gracious, ready-to-help friends and relatives. But it was wonderful.
She was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen as she walked down that aisle and I do not remember ever seeing her as happy. That right there made all the madness worth it. The rest of the event was great fun, and all my favorite people had a good time, making wonderful memories.
In hindsight, it felt like an out-of-body experience. Sensory overload, if you will. I still have decorations in the backyard that I may never take down. I have décor we didn’t even manage to get put up. We have lengths of faux ivy and flowers, tulle, aisle baskets, teapots, tea cups, leftover candy, leftover champagne and leftover cupcakes. The way I was raised, that makes you the perfect host, so all is well.
Everybody danced with some abandon and there were laughter, hugs and toasts to touch the heart. In spite of my desperately wrong directions from home to wedding to reception, everyone found us. While it was a rather warm day, it did not rain, shade could be found and no one dissolved.
Coming back to reality is a tad bit boring, but I am very ready for boring and will enjoy boring and predictable for some time to come. My daughter is already planning her first anniversary party, just so she can wear her wedding dress again.
Jean Gillette is a freelance writer with a cupcake hangover. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.