My best friend got married yesterday and I was there, proudly holding my bouquet in one hand and my iPhone in the other as she and her man said their I Do's, kissed, and sealed the deal.
It was beautiful. Weddings and beginnings are supposed to be, right? Somehow, though, the words "Till Death Do Us Part" take on new meaning when the groom was rushed to the emergency room by ambulance and released a few days earlier after almost dying from a severe asthma attack. "For Richer or Poorer" means more when pennies have been counted and bills juggled. "In sickness and in health" takes your breath away knowing that just days earlier, the bride was praying for a miracle and the emergency responders were making sure that miracle happened.
The fact that the bride is a powerhouse of confidence who deserves every happiness after an abusive first marriage that she walked away from speaks volumes as she and the man who loves her now and forever tries to keep it together and not cry like a baby while he repeats the pastor and promises his today and all of his tomorrows. He does (and will continue to) treat her like the goddess she is and deserves to be and this is when I find myself blinking away a few tears of my own.
Flower girls sit at my feet, one my daughter, the other the bride's niece. I'm waiting for the bride to call and let me know she got the wedding proofs back because I'm positive there'll be at least one photo of me glaring at Buttercup and Mom-looking her into something that resembles proper behavior because she may as well have been the drunk aunt on the dance floor with all the flashing that would have taken place had she not been wearing leggings under her dress because we totally saw it coming. At one point, there were a few snickers as I did the Mom Finger-Snap & Point thing indicating that it was now time to get out of Downward Dog and sit the hell down.
"Stop that or no ice cream." I whisper-yelled it as I pointed to the spot where she was supposed to plant her little ass until the time came to follow the bride and groom down the aisle after they were pronounced Mr. and Mrs. I got plenty of pictures of the three-year-old sitting perfectly and adorably still as she waited for her cue while I kept praying that Buttercup would remember to Not Say Inappropriate Things in Public. She did remember, thank you very much. Which makes this post way less entertaining, but I'm pretty sure it's a major factor in me and the BFF still being BFFs.
There's also the fact that the bride chose dresses that accentuated curves AND HAD HIDDEN POCKETS! And that she told me I could play with my iPhone during the ceremony. Probably because she left the Chinese finger trap at home. Those are also reasons I love her and appreciate her friendship in ways that cannot be described. One does not make it to her 30's without a BFF without cherishing the one that appears when she is meant to.
There was a Tardis and the bridesmaids received pocket watches with teddy bears and the ice cream bar made everyone happy because rainbow sprinkles and chocolate chips hold that kind of power. There was silliness and friendship and family and new beginnings to be celebrated and enjoyed. There were Spanx to peel off and cellulite to embrace and fuller curves than were present when the dress was ordered to thank for not needing alterations because I didn't have time to get any done.
There were explanations to the child to give her much loved honorary aunt the space needed to share herself with everyone present and stilettos thankfully replaced with flats or bare feet. And then at the end there were hugs and good-bye's and I Love You's as the room was cleaned up and the bride and her groom prepared for their honeymoon and everyone else parted ways and started Facebook-searching for the connections made.
And then on Facebook there was an update from a mother of a flower girl and a bridesmaid to the best friend that took 30 years to find.