Sharon’s wedding

“Happy is the bride whom the sun shines on” exemplified my daughter’s July 4th wedding – but it didn’t start out that way.
A week before the wedding we were standing under a tree mapping out table arrangements when the skies opened and dumped a torrent of rain on us.
The bride welled up in tears, “What if rains on my wedding day?”
“We will cancel the carriage ride and move everything inside,” I said – and added, “and have red, white and blue umbrellas on hand, just in case.”
In the days before the wedding, family and friends from Indiana, Louisiana, Missouri, Michigan, Ohio and New York overflowed the house and began emptying my freezer of the food I had prepared for them. My son, who was to perform the ceremony, didn’t enjoy any of it – he was sick with the flu.
The night before the rehearsal my husband and I were at the church when we met Ken Ball trying to figure out how tall of a ladder was needed to put something on top of the sound system. I knew Ken had said the ideal conclusion for an Independence Day wedding would be the release of balloons or confetti, but until then I didn’t think he really meant it. As the sound man for the wedding he relished telling my daughter it was his one chance to turn her off. We enjoyed a relaxing chat before returning to our overflowing schedule.
Three hours before the rehearsal my sick son went to the clinic. I asked my daughter who would fill-in if her brother was too sick. After a two years of planning on having her big brother officiate, she teared up in disappointment. She started to ask our pastor, but he was rushing off to a crisis and referred her to our retired pastor, Brother Sam, who agreed to pinch hit. Someone observed, “If he does marry them – Uncle Sam will officiate at the Independence Day wedding.” Uncle Sam brought his wife, Miss Dot, seasoned from years of directing weddings, to help direct the rehearsal and we were thankful she had come.
When I arrived for the rehearsal, the church maintenance man pulled me aside, “I don’t want to upset the bride, but Ken Ball died this afternoon. I can do the sound in a pinch.” I was stunned. I bit back my tears, accepted his offer to fill in and joined the bridal party. I hugged my daughter close as she cried while we prayed for the family before beginning the rehearsal.
At the rehearsal dinner we spoke of Ken in hushed tones in the patriotically decorated room. The bride handed out thank you gifts, including activity packets for her energetic nieces and nephew – then she dined in quiet with her friends and attendants.
That night she and her bridesmaids went to the home of one of the bridesmaids, and had a relaxing, get-pretty-for-the-wedding party including the surprise of a professional masseuse. My daughter gloated, “I got an hour long massage.”
My sister, tired from a day of delayed, rerouted flying, did not get a massage. We swept her off to a hotel late that night and awakened her early the next day to coordinate setting-up the cold food buffet.
The day of the wedding the sun shone free of clouds. While the bride’s friend fussed with her hair and make-up, a host of friends and family came and went. A family of girls helped set-up and cover tables, an usher’s family added finishing touches, family and friends from church and work arranged trays of fruits, vegetables, pickles, nuts, candy and mints. My daughter’s friend put the finishing touches on the cake. Two other friends spent the day taking pictures.
The grandchildren were perfect as the candle lighters, vocalist, candle bearers, ring bearer and flower girl. The youngest napped so the next oldest carried both of the mothers’ roses to the couple. Brothers from both sides stood with the groom and the groom’s sister played her flute.
With medication and a liquid diet, big brother was able to officiate. After he welcomed the guests, he said, “At times sorrow intermingles with celebration as it has with the death of Ken Ball.” The moment of silence before he prayed for the family was broken with sounds of sadness. Behind her veil, the bride blotted tears for her late friend. The wedding ceremony did not end with a surprise shower of confetti and balloons.
At the reception, bride and groom cut their cake and toasted each other. While they greeted guests, servers refilled punch bowls rapidly emptied in the heat of the afternoon, rushed trays of food to the buffet tables or offered folks ice cream and wedding favors. It was over too quickly. The couple raced to the horse drawn carriage under a shower of streamers from champagne poppers and ended the day watching fireworks from the hotel swimming pool. Thanks to the loving help of family and friends my daughter termed it a perfect wedding.
The sun had shone brightly and she was a happy bride.