Here Comes the Bride

When I met Melissa, little Jessica was just a toddler.  She was the smartest little child I had ever met.  She was a chubby-cheeked, whispy haired, toe-head with deep brown eyes and an ever deeper voice, who started learning to talk at just nine months old.  Serious and funny, she was always wiser than her years. 

Melissa was at two of my kids births in person (and two by phone... yes, she listened as I bellowed my babies out).  And I was at two of hers. We cooked, cleaned, walked, and nursed babies together. We spent some part of every day together for years. When I look back at many of my favorite memories, Melissa is quietly there, bringing joy. 

Sixteen years ago, after years of being neighbors with Melissa’s family in the same apartment complex, we moved.  Not just our family, but Melissa's too.  We moved away the same week, planned that way so that we didn't have to be “the ones left behind”. 

Over the years we have kept in touch.  It took us a while to negotiate our relationship via phone.  Up until that time, our phone calls went like this:

"Hey."
"Hey."
"Can you com'mere?"
"Be right there."

But we figured it out.  Now, 16 years later, we don't get to talk as often as we'd like, but when it came to Jessie getting married, it was simple.  Guy said it best...

"It's Melissa. You have to go."

I got to Salt Lake on a Thursday afternoon.  What a joy to see my sweet Melissa, and Jess surprised me by joining her at the airport.  We got our nails done (a first for me, and probably last if all manicurists are that masochistic!), and the next day we made food!  Lots of food!!!

A few hundred little caprese skewers, bazillion sandwich pinwheels, a million fruit cubes and cake squares later, and we were somewhat ready for the nuptials. 

The next morning I got the privilege of escorting the lovely bride-to-be to the temple with her proud mama.



Melissa looked so lovely. Again, Guy said it best... “She never ages!”



Jessie’s only sign of nerves hit in the car, but were short lived. My favorite mental picture from the day was seeing her and her sweetie walking hand in hand up to the temple. 



The ceremony was lovely, of course, but I missed sitting in the Temple with my own sweetie.  Temple weddings are a very simple affair.  There are only a couple of dozen family and close friends in the small sealing room, so it feels very tender and intimate.  I love seeing the bride and groom walk in holding hands.  The sealer who performs the marriage usually gives a short bit of council to the young couple, and it always brings home the beauty and purpose of marriage.  After the exchange of promises while kneeling across the altar from each other, the couple then shares a sweet kiss over the altar, and are pronounced husband and wife for time and all eternity. 

The ceremony only lasts about 20 minutes, but it is sweet and reverent.  At the end, well wishers pass by the new husband and wife in turn,  whispering their quiet congratulations.  I had managed to hold back my tears until that moment, but couldn't help it once I looked into that sweet girl's gorgeous brown eyes.  The years folded in on themselves, and I could see how short a lifetime must be in God’s eyes. She whispered how glad she was that I had come.  I felt so grateful.

From that point on, the day was the flurry that most wedding days are.  There were a million pictures in subzero temperatures (it feels that way when you are out there long enough. It was Utah, after all). 

And suddenly I saw the scene, not from the generation getting married, but from the parent generation. When did we get so old? 

I loved that I got to be THAT person for my sweet Melissa.  The one who watches from the side and makes sure her bra strap isn't showing, no lipstick on the teeth, that her hair is blowing the right way... the one that will remember how beautiful she looks to tell her about later,  when we are two old ladies, a million years (or five minutes) from now.



An amazing thing happened for me that day.  I had been so worried about my health getting in the way of what we needed to accomplish for the reception.  After all that Melissa has meant to me in my life, I wanted to be everything she needed me to be on her special day.  Before the trip I had changed my diet to follow the Autoimmune Protocol (AIP), and had done great until the day prior.  The diet is a lot of work (more on that next time), so I decided not to worry about my food that day, and just eat what was available, praying that I would still be okay.

The amazing thing was that for the first time in months, I felt awesome.  So awesome.  I was quick on my feet and had tons of energy.  I lasted all day, and right into the night.  I spent the reception chasing Melissa back out of the kitchen, chatting with long-missed friends (the McKays, also old friends from the apartments, and my Soul Buddy Ellen from Sac, who now lives in Utah), and cutting watermelon and such.  I seriously felt better than I had since before the shingles hit back in September.



It didn't last, I will admit, but it gave me hope for better days ahead.  The next day my flu symptoms hit again, and I spent the day in Melissa's recliner nibbling leftover wedding food and visiting with my dear friend until it was time to go to the airport.  By a sweet coincidence, Jessica and hubby Brayden's flight to the Bahamas was leaving just ten minutes after mine, so we got to take her to the airport with us.  It was the perfect ending to my stay (I mean, for me.  I think she was focused on other things).

God answers prayers, even silly ones for a little extra energy. 

Isn’t that wonderful of him?