One Saturday morning in May, I am bubbling with nervous excitement while a stranger styles my hair in my mother's James Island bathroom.
Friends and family are busy throughout the house with preparations. One making crepes, another de-petalling 4 dozen roses, another on the phone with the florist inquiring why purple lilies arrived instead of "pure white."
And little do I know the day's mishaps have only just begun. MapQuest will send several guests (including our pastor) to a house an hour's drive from Old Sheldon Church. But what is a wedding day without a good story? (And thankfully no one uses MapQuest anymore.)
I sit with coffee cup in hand to counteract two hours sleep. I soak in the bustle around me and hope to savor every moment.
Because this will be one of the best days of my life. The quiet moments together, the willing help of friends, the laughter with family. Eating, drinking and dancing, dancing, dancing. The commitment to live our lives together.
Easily, the best.
Happy 7, B. Thank you for being the most splendid thing that has ever happened. I love you.