A Wedding in Seven Takes

In Which I Try to Describe the Indescribable

Well, fancy that. There is still a blog that exists here on the inter-tubes! Every day this week, I woke and thought, I’ll just go over and type a few things, and then, by the time I’d opened my computer, I had fallen asleep again. It was most extraordinary, given how the week before I never slept at all. Or rather, not extraordinary at all, just the way these things go.

Yesterday, I managed to stagger back to the church and put lots of things back where they belong, and scrub honey off the floor, and stack up all the odds and ends that need somewhere else to go in the world. Today I’m going to put the Sunday school wing back together because we emptied it out to make a dining room for children, a dressing room, and a place to store boxes and detritus.

The problem I’m having is that I don’t really even know how to describe the singular event that preyed on my mind so continually for so many months. Aedan and Addy got married. There you have it. It’s like saying Jesus rose from the dead. It’s so momentous a thing that the usual crutches of linguistic descriptors break and fall away. One is left with words like ‘great’ and ‘cool’ and ‘awesome’ and ‘beautiful’, all of which feel insubstantial and paltry. I guess I could just try to describe the day, as I trundled along through it.

one

I woke up like a live wire at 5 am and picked up my mother at 6:50, and we descended into the church parish hall promptly at 7 to start cutting cherry tomatoes in half. My girls arrived two minutes later and spread out over the church, doing so many small tasks I can’t even number them. Somehow, between 7 and 8:30, everyone clad themselves in wedding attire so that pictures could be taken of various groups—Aedan with his groomsmen, Addy with her bridesmaids. The main thing about this hour is that, tragically, Addy’s mother (my dear friend) got tangled up in a bridesmaid and wrenched her knee and spent the rest of the day in horrifying pain, though you would never have known it to look at her. So you should pray for her, that she will heal and won’t need surgery.

Addy looked gorgeous, so that was the main thing. She had made a delicate, beaded filigree to go over the back of her hair under the veil, which flowed all the way down past the length of the train. She was statuesque. I lack sufficient language to describe how she looked. Aedan looked good, too, though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t deserve her.

two

One of my main jobs over the morning was endeavoring to coax the twelve little flower girls and two ring bearers to walk down the main aisle without crying. I had only ten minutes to do this because Matt taught a Sunday School class in the sanctuary from 9:15 to 10, and the service started at 10:30, and the choir had to warm up. So, in my fancy heels which hurt like hijus, I slowly walked them in the way they should go two whole times. The effect, when they officially preceded the bride, throwing flower petals aggressively hither and thither, was utterly charming. They wouldn’t go in twos, the way I’d imagined. They slowly meandered in a pack, looking around and smiling. At the front, they stopped for a while, but were eventually persuaded to go away and find their mothers. Everyone, if they can, should have twelve flower girls between the ages of three and eight, swaggering in the biggest dresses they can find, festooning the cosmos with rose petals. It’s the only way, as far as I can see it.

three

Aedan and Addy availed themselves of a bagpiper (who goes to our church), incense, and a full choir. It is still Easter season, so it seemed meet and right so to do. We generally have incense for Christmas, Palm Sunday, Easter, and Pentecost, and bagpipes on Palm Sunday, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch. Their hymn in procession was “St. Patrick’s Breastplate,” timed so that Addy would walk in to the “Christ before me, Christ behind me” etc. bit. Would highly recommend. Ten out of Ten as a wedding procession. Best thing ever.

four

It was Rogation Day, and they kept most of the readings, except they swapped out the Gospel for the Wedding at Cana. Matt’s sermon was brilliant, and you will be able to listen to it over on the Stand Firm Podcast as soon as they get it posted.

five

The service, overall, was all any of us could have hoped. They said their vows. They were blessed and prayed over. We sang a heap of beautiful songs. There was communion. And they all made it out to “O God Beyond All Praising,” and then there were a lot of pictures in a brisk and chilly breeze with the addition of an orange cat who wanted to come inside and become a member. The picture bit seemed interminable because there was so much food that needed attending to downstairs, but hopefully, they will all turn out, and I won’t be leering or looking ridiculous.

six

Downstairs, we served up lunch to about two hundred, consisting of, first, Hot Artichoke Dip with Crudites, second, Pulled Pork, Brisket, Roast Potatoes, Roast Carrots, Potato Salad, Greek Salad, and third, a variety of little tarts and cookies. We could have definitely gone in for more desserts. That went straight on my list of what to do better next time.

seven

As people lay back in their chairs, wondering if they could fit in anymore food, we pushed away a row of tables and Addy and her dad and then Addy and Aedan danced, and then everyone, and then a pretty successful trial run of English Country Dancing which came out to be a lot more raucous and like a Barn Raising than a Drawing Room. The best man and maid of honor gave speeches generated by Chat-GPT and Grok, which were hilarious, actually, and as touching and heartwarming as ever.

And after that, of course, I staggered home and went to sleep and kept sleeping for a week. And somewhere along the way, the Senior in high school finished all her finals and is officially done with all of that, and my rosebushes started blooming. And it would be so wonderful if I could grasp onto any language to describe how I felt, but I can’t. On Monday morning, as I wandered around my wrecked kitchen, I thought I would feel a sense of loss, that my nice son, who's been around all these years, should leave and go be with someone else. Instead, a warm glow overtook my soul and I felt the satisfaction and joy of remembering that he, at that very moment, was probably sprinkling a fine layer of sugar over his bride’s pristine kitchen counter in the adorable apartment they have five minutes away, and that little drops of coffee were certainly dripping onto the gleaming wood floor as he whistled and hummed his way through his morning routine. I had a second cup of tea and wandered around my garden, and felt unbearably happy.

So anyway, have a nice day! Next week, I plan to weigh in on the Fuller news, Redeemed Zoomer, and several other exciting items that passed me by, unless more pressing matters race by me. I’ve missed you all, but am so grateful for the break and to have survived such a milestone of motherhood.