Missed Part I? Read it here.
You know those days where you put on the outfit you had planned to wear to an event and no matter how much you try to make it work, it just doesn’t feel right? You can’t get the one weird seam to lay flat, or the sleeves feel funny on your arms, or the whole outfit is plain uncomfortable. That’s what happened when I put on the dress I had bought specifically to wear to my rehearsal. It was not cooperating. So I’m running around the house, tearing through my (just unloaded) boxes of clothing to find something I can wear. I finally settle on a dress that my fiancé bought me. I put it on, but it was too short to wear without jeans. So I threw on my skinny jeans and then was about to leave when my fiancé noticed that about ½” of my bright red bra was showing above the back section of the dress. Of course, nothing we did could fix this, so in frustration threw on a black sweater that I didn’t want to wear, but knew would cover my rouge bra strap.
At this point, we are almost running late. It takes a least a good half-hour to forty minutes to get down to Detroit where my rehearsal is, and we are less than an hour from the start time. My mother-in-law mentions that we still have to pick up the corsages on the way.
This is when I really start to lose it. My whole relaxing day of fun-filled activities had gone down the drain, and while I still managed to pull it together and have a great time with what little of the events I could still get to, this was the last straw. I did not want to be late for my rehearsal as well because it was the one big pressing thing in my mind I had left to do.
My clothes were still uncomfortable, we had less than forty minutes until I had to be in Detroit, and we were still moseying about the apartment. And the corsages! How are we going to have time to get to the corsages? It was too late to deal with my clothing and the floral shop where the cosages were was at least ten minutes out of the way. This is where I became a dripping kitchen sink; lots of crocodile tears started to erupt from my eyes with no warning.
In a moment of trying to keep his bride from completely breaking down all together, my fiancé sent me onto the rehearsal with box of Kleenex and my father-in-law. This is only part of the reason why my father-in-law is awesome, but he somehow got me from our apartment in Auburn Hills and to the door of my wedding hall on Belle Isle in Detroit for my wedding rehearsal in 20 minutes. I don’t know how he did it, how fast he was going, or how he managed to not get pulled over as an out-of-stater, but he did. While we were driving he asked me questions and got me to talk between sniffles. He didn’t become alienated by the crying woman on his hands (and if he did, he did a good job of masking it). He just made me laugh and told me some hunting stories about him and my fiancé, and got me to the location of my wedding.
Just after walking into the main hall, one of my close friends and stage-light/aisle-runner fixer (thank you and sorry, respectively), Drew, said “Deanna, it’s your wedding. Everyone else can wait.” That’s advice I should have taken much earlier on, but oh well. I’ll have to remember that for my next life when I come back as a cat.
Once my fiancé arrived, the rehearsal itself went great. Aside from feeling completely ridiculous and self-conscious from standing in the middle of the room in front of everyone, and the occasional outbursts of laughter from looks I exchanged with my fiancé, all was well. (And the lights. But we won’t talk about the lights. I have so many super heroes in my life.)
It was the first time that all of my family members and friends involved in the wedding were all in the same room together. My flower girls and ring bearers, my little cousins, were there trying out the aisle. The Olive Trio was playing the transposed string pieces I had selected. Both sets of parents were in the room, the photographers were already working on doing what they do best, and my whole bridal party was on stage and in line.
Everyone was in the same room. This was actually happening. It was one of the most surreal and yet fulfilling moments of my life. Everyone in the room cared about me and my fiancé. They were there to support us, back us up and celebrate with us with their presence and various talents. It’s overwhelming but incredible.
After the rehearsal itself was over we went over to Sherie’s house, another good friend of ours who was gracious enough to host our rehearsal dinner. We went with wings and pizza. Can’t go wrong with those, right? Everyone was happy, relaxed, and after all the hard work we all got to eat some good food and hang out together. I was feeling bubbly and sentimental, all our friends were laughing, and the parents were over in a corner of the kitchen engaging in an Emergent/Calvinism/Armenianism discourse. After the messy start to my day, everything was finally coming together. I’ll be able to look back on that night as one of the happiest of my life. Everyone was in the same room, everyone was happy, and my wedding was the next morning. It doesn’t get much better than that.
After almost everyone had left, I handed my engagement ring off (it locks in with my wedding band) to the best man and told him in no uncertain terms that I would be unhappy if something happened to it. I then kissed my fiancé goodnight and headed to my parent’s house to try to get some sleep before my wedding day.