And So It Is

Hours in a hard straight-backed chair being poked, prodded, pushed and pulled into an upsweep of curls. A Nicole Kidman up-do and I'm wearing it. Time is running out and I want to do nails. Phone rings. I'm being summoned. Jar and the Mystery Man have arrived, bride is freaking, I must go now. No time to finish my prep, the girl needs me. A quick stop to show Jules the new improved girly-girl aunt. Two thumbs up and a "You're beautiful!" and I'm off to the races.

Stacy is without make-up, still getting hair done, in peejays. Hmmm. She worries about crazy little details that make no sense at this point in the game. It's done or it's not but there's no time either way. Grace snaps the real shots. Joe snaps secret paparazzi shots with Grace in them. Guests arrive. Much last minute chaotic running around. Who's doing wine? Is the fountain turned on? Do you know how to work the sound system? Where's the band? Here's a cd. Where is the license? Where's the groom? Does everyone have their flowers? Did anyone fill the little one's basket with petals? Where's the father of the bride? Someone please help us!

The walk down the aisle is difficult in these shoes because the aisle is grass and my shoes are 3-inch spiky heels. We start late so I've already been in these shoes too long and it's only just begun. My feet hurt. I make it to my mark and turn to watch the kids. Flower girl is right behind me and here comes Brett with the rings. I fumble trying to free my ring. Damn thing is going to knot and I'm having a mini-fit. But there, finally, it frees and AJ gets his. Then the wedding march and my girl coming down the aisle on Blake's arm. Who ever would have thunk this? I will not cry. I will not cry. I'm not crying, my nose is just running a little bit . . . the whole thing feels like a play, like a poorly rehearsed high school production. We're not real sure of our roles and lines, looking to Gordon, our director, the only one who's done this sort of thing before, for guidance. He cues lines, nods directions and we proceed toward the celebration, the food, the wine, the music.

A receiving line, hugs and handshakes from people I don't know, people I do. What do I say? Hi. Hello. Hey there. Great day. Thanks for coming. Over and over again. Then more pictures. Do I wait to eat? Do I eat now? Nobody has said. It's unclear. Then the food line where I find the Underhill potato salad to try some of Grammie's homemade salad dressing. A little Blass with dinner is nice. But I want out of this dress, out of these shoes. It's getting cold and my feet REALLY hurt. Then gifts. So many gifts and cards. A fortune I don't want to be responsible for. I need a drink, a sweater, a pair of pants.

Finally I am released from duties. Going for the wine! The jeans! The comfy shoes! The world gets a little fuzzy around the edges, soft focus. Then totally blurry. Do I have nachos? Do I see my dog? Do I say anything I shouldn't? Do I dance in the teahouse? Does Kevin say I'm being rude? Am I being rude? Does Alan really say he had her from hello? Do I walk home? Do I stumble? Do I sleep? Do I dream? . . . What happens?