You imagine it’s a rite of passage, your children eventually getting married. Once they leave home and start building a life with someone, there is an inevitability to it, if they are that way inclined. After our family trip to Montana, my daughter flashed her left hand in front of my face and said, “See! Another trip with no ring!”
“Um, darling, you told him you didn’t want to be married,” I reply gently, reminding her of a conversation not so far in the past.
“That is not the point!” she went on. “He should at least ask!”
It took a little while longer, but he did have a plan in mind. He asked to speak with both her father and I one afternoon. I happened to be out shopping at the time, but FaceTime is a marvelous fill-in for those special moments you don’t want to miss. I told her dad that either he was asking to return her to us, or he was asking to marry her. We were both very relieved when it turned out he was requesting her hand in marriage.
It was a mini vacation to attend baseball spring training in Arizona when he asked her to marry him, and she accepted. I had given him my diamond engagement ring, which no longer fits, as the stone in her crown as it were. He had had it reworked into their style. They FaceTimed me, and both had been crying with joy. Right after my daughter had fallen into the river with surprise. Special days.
Back home and Bridezilla mounts the horse to get ready for a wedding in about six months. You come to realize that the bridal industry is not used to a half a year prep schedule. Most are at least a year or 18 months out, so we realized it was past time to get mega busy. Thank goodness this was going to be a small affair, so no ballrooms for 300 of your very favorite people required! Reasons to be cheerful part 1. Also, there was no church affair involved. Reasons to be very cheerful part 2.
Once you start skimming the surface of this mega-dollar industry, you are quite blown away by the money some folks are prepared to pay for one day in their life, 24 hours, including sleep. It is truly astounding. Even a small gathering demands a location, invitations, a caterer, at least one dress, a bridal shower, a bachelorette, a rehearsal dinner and so on. This thing is a full-time job if you make it so!
Within a week we had booked the venue, DJ and caterer. I was already tired. We took off to San Luis Obispo for our bridal dress appointments. Gone are the days when you can go cruise a bridal boutique and browse the selections. Oh heck no. This is by appointment only and you will get fined if you miss said appointment. Also, it is reputedly an enormous mistake to buy a bridal dress online.
If you are familiar with Downtown San Luis, you will know that parking is at a premium and don’t even bother to look for street parking on a Saturday morning. I dropped off the bride and her Maid of Honor and took off in search of a coveted spot. I finally gave up and settled for a remote parking garage. Hobbling with my bad knee and hip firmly giving me jip, I receive a frantic call from the bride. “We can’t go in without you!” Oh heavens.
I tripped my way anxiously back to them, discovering that the nine-month pregnant MOH was now wearing the “I am the Bride” T-shirt, so they had played a nice little trick on the owner, which I was sorry to miss. Fortunately, Mariam, the owner, was a delight and my daughter selected the second dress she tried on. We all cried. Mariam was obviously relieved that the glove fit, as it were, and minimal alterations would be in order. She explained that there is no longer any bridal industry in America and anything that was ordered from overseas was now a royal cluster and subject to delays and 25% tariffs. Oh, we were so glad we didn’t have to deal with any of that!
So next on the calendar is the try on for the alterations and then the pickup of the readily altered gown after that. I’m so glad she elected San Luis and not Los Angeles for these little sojourns. Any minute she’s not at work she’s on Etsy selecting little bits of this and that. Table runners, decorations, plates, corsages, presents, fake candles, fake flowers, real flowers. “You only get one wedding!” I wag at her. “Enjoy it!” And she really is loving the planning.
It is joyful for the mother of the bride to see how happy she is and how she and her fiancé are embroiled in doing all the preparations together, from the cake tasting (more than one session, one in San Jose) to each song that the DJ would be playing, to the Native American blessing tradition in the river. She has her hands in everything.
And that is how it should be, isn’t it. If you are going to make this huge step and commit yourself to one person in marriage, it should be a big deal. I’m not old-fashioned about these things, but I think that if you are going to do it, you should do it right. Not with 300 people, some that are just going for the knees-up, but with people who mean something special to you. Her officiant is her beloved third-grade teacher — best teacher ever. Her maid of honor is a very old friend from high school; her bridesmaids are her goddaughter and her niece. These are going to be some special times.
“Do I have to wear the same color as the others?” I ask her. (Green.) “Hello, did you not read my message?” she retorts in true Bridezilla fashion. “Well, yes, hmm, I’m just checking. I’d like to be a little different, if…” I stopped right there. It’s her day, not mine. For once I will do what I am told. Green it is.
As Chief Wedding Planner from the sidelines, I have already learned a lot. When to get involved and not. As they say, I’m sure it will all be fine on the day and she and I will continue to be on speaking terms most of the time.
