Wedding photos are a snap

My son hesitantly agreed to photograph his niece’s wedding. The previous two weddings he had shot had resulted in dark pictures or messed up film.
“Third time’s charm,” the family said still wanting him to be the photographer.
He came with his own digital and film cameras and used my digital and film cameras as back-ups to capture the first grandchild’s special day for memories.
I grabbed the film camera and invaded the bride’s dressing room; my husband, with his shaky hands, took our digital and went up into the sound booth to coach my son’s wife in shooting pictures.
Clicking away, I captured the professionalism stitched into the gowns the bride’s mother made for her daughter and the bridesmaids.
Through the viewfinder I saw the bride’s hair being curled, her make-up applied and her mother helping her dress.
The groom and his family attendants had already dressed by the time we arrived. so, my son snapped a picture of his brother – the father of the bride – carrying in his tuxedo and straightening his tie in the mirror. He made shots of the men in groups as attendants, with the family, shots of the guests coming in and of the book attendants in the wedding colors of black and white .
Before the wedding, he lined up as many folks as he could shoot.
I was snapping shots of the bride and her sisters when someone came to the door and said to me, “your husband just fell.”
I went to check on him. He had missed the top step of a four-step flight of stairs and landed flat out on his side. He declared he had broken his rib, but saw need to go to the doctor for an x-ray picture – broken ribs heal themselves and doctors no longer wrap the rib cage. He shrugged off the pain, and elected to stay for the wedding and reception.
My husband and I lined up to make our perfunctory ‘grandparent’ entrance. He held his aching ribs; I held my camera.
We sat prim and proper while our son bent down to snap shots of the bride’s sisters preceding her to the front of the church and of the veiled granddaughter on our oldest son’s arm.
He also clicked the camera when the pastor had to pull out his ringing cell phone and turn it off before beginning the ceremony. And later – at the crucial moment – he snapped a shot of the best man, the groom’s father, doing exactly as he had promised during the rehearsal – desperately searching his pockets for ‘lost’ rings.
My daughter-in-love captured a shot of the newlyweds leaving the chapel under a halo of bubbles blown by the guests.
Hugs and hellos to the wedding guests preceded lining up families, aunts, uncles, grandparents, the bridal party and individuals for shots with the bride and groom.
Everyone helped. An aunt lined up shots, dad gracefully draped the hem of the bride’s dress, attendants called folks to get in line, the pastor brought a high ladder for the snap-happy uncle to climb up and take pictures. I handed cameras up for him to get shots for the groom’s grandmother, the bride’s mother and, of course, me.
He descended the ladder without falling and breaking a rib.
Eventually … everyone seemed satisfied and we headed off to the park for the cutting of the cake. Someone snapped a shot of the photographer uncle sitting by his wife, enjoying the wedding food before heading back home.
Third time was charm: the pictures looked great. He had sealed the bride and groom’s perfect day on film forever.
P.S. The next morning my husband woke up in pain and decided he needed to see a doctor. The doctor gave him a digital picture of his chest x-ray. Told him he definitely had a broken rib, did NOT wrap his ribs, handed him pain pills and told him to take a deep breath every so often. He’s doing fine, thank you.