Oh Happy Day

                                   

On the morning of June 27th, 2009 I woke up on the fold-out sofa in the guest bedroom of my parents house, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes from the barely 4 hours that I got (largely due to the Tylenol PM I chocked down at midnight), and took a deep breath.  Finall, the day had come....I was going to be married by days end.

The morning was spent at my parents home - it's where I spent my summers as a child.  It is the most beautiful home I have ever known...and really the only consistent "home" as we moved around for most of my childhood.  All of my girlfriends and family was there and despite the nerves, it was like a grown up sleepover that never wanted to end.  I loved that morning.

After the ladies and I were all gussied up, we made our way to the church where I somehow managed to squeeze into that oh so beautiful dress. 

                                          

My sister/Matron of Honor/mother of the ringbearer/best friend....the list goes on....was also my florist.  She is amazing, I knew that going into the day, that she was the only one I would want to do my flowers.  She was hesitant: I was a bit demanding and perhaps some would call me a perfectionist (what bride isnt??), but in the end she agreed.  When I first caught a glimpse of my bouquet, I got tears in my eyes.  She blew me away. My flowers were single handendly the most beautiful aspect of my wedding.

Our wedding party was quite the crew.  They made the day so special for us, not to mention, they were all absolute beauties!

I paid a tremendous amount of energy and attention to the details of the day, not to mention on my get up.  From the vintage shoe clips in my hair, the soles of my shoes that I painted for my "something blue", to the belt my mother made out of her wedding dress, and the 37 year old veil of my mothers that I wore, I was determined to put meaning into every aspect of the bridal costume, if you will.

At every wedding I had been to before mine, I probably cried.  I'm  not sure why, but I always use to cry at weddings.  Then I had my own, and for the first time, I actually listened instead of just getting wrapped up in the couple's emotions.  For the first time, the words resonated...and I cried.  And now, when I go to weddings, I cry even harder.

We made our way to the reception...................

We waited for two years to have our reception at the Landmark Center.  It was worth the wait.

And the milkglass I collected for 10 years, was worth the work and every last penny...

We ate to our hearts delight and danced the night away well into the depths of that hot summer night.  We closed out the place with eggrolls and cream cheese wontons delivered hot for our well "lubricated" guests.

A wedding day: A LOT of planning, A LOT of details, A LOT of money.

But in the end, there are just no words for what that day meant to me.  Only A LOT of adjectives that could never measure up to the feelings I will carry with me forever.

**All photos done by the amazingly talented, Melissa Louise.