My Favorite Part of the Wedding

 What was my favorite part?

Well, the location was beautiful. Her family cottage on the shores of lake Sisabagamah.

The legacy and history of the place built in 1890 is Hallmark Movie worthy. Her grandpa grew up there; as an orphan.  

I imagine the couple that ran the orphanage, just wanted a big, noisy, messy, happy, family. But they couldn’t have kids to make a family. So, they made a family by having kids…lots of them.

Out of all the orphans that played on those shores, her grandpa was the one that loved the place the most. He didn’t just play, he worked to help keep up the place.

When he grew and entered the service, he sent his checks back home, to help the precious couple who raised him.

It must’ve been quite a surprise, as the years rolled by, and folks grow old, the time came when that precious couple who had no kids by blood, but dozens, by love, left the house and the land and memory filled shores to my new daughter-in-law’s grandpa.

Knowing that, only added to the ambiance. But it wasn’t my favorite part.

Her dad secretly decorated the pontoon with all the frills and “JUST MARRIED” across the back. 

The big tent in the backyard served as outdoor dining first and then rose petal covered dance hall next.

All of that was really cool. But nothing compared to this moment. If only I could’ve taken a picture.

Everyone was seated in white chairs on green grass, facing the lake. I was front and center, the wedding party near me. My son stood an arm’s length from my right shoulder.   

The music started and the chatter stopped. 

From around the corner of the freshly painted one hundred and thirty-year old house, she appeared. All in white, smiling so bright.

Everyone shifted in their seats and looked back to see.

One step after another, in a slow and steady rhythm, clinging to her dad. They made their way to the aisle between the chairs and started toward where we stood.

From my vantage point, I could see both her and my son.

With every step she took, my son, melted a little bit more. His eyes got shiny.  I don’t think he was breathing.  

My son, Josiah, is tough. He can hunt and fish and work as hard as any man I know, but at that moment, as he melted at the sight of his beautiful bride Brittnee, I could’ve pushed him over with a feather.

When they got just over half way up the aisle, the moment came, my favorite moment of the day.  The moment I’ll never forget and always wish I could’ve captured in a photo.

There she was, ever so lovely, glowing in every way, all eyes on her…especially his.

One more step and that was it, his eyes glistened to the brim, filled and spilled.

Josiah has weathered more than a few storms. He’s had his share of heartache and shattered dreams, but in that moment, it was all gone. In that marvelous moment, all the love, the joy, the everything he ever wanted, came true and overflowed.  

She saw the spill and her beaming smile changed to the look of love and compassion a mother gives as she wipes the tear of a child.

The last few steps were hurried, she hugged her dad and glided swiftly to her man, my son, her husband. Their eyes locked, their hands clasped and they only let go for a moment, just long enough to slide a ring upon a finger.

 

Well done, son and daughter. May this love, that only comes from Above, sustain you and keep you through every valley and over every mountain, for ever and ever, amen.

Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.  Genesis 2:24