Tying the bow

There are lots of firsts in life.  And commonly, after the first comes a second, and then more succeeding events.  But for us, it was once in a lifetime.  As the parents of an only child, our daughter’s wedding day was an occasion we will never repeat.  Hosting the celebration at our farm can accurately be described as a labor of love.  And the preparation can be defined as taking a village to complete.

It doesn’t seem possible that what took over a year to plan was over in a flash.  But the video and pictures will forever preserve and refresh our memories.  Thank goodness, because the pictures reflect what I missed by living in the moment.  But it’s those same pictures that have made it difficult for me to write this…
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I didn’t cry on Brittney’s wedding day, but I tear up every time I watch the video. And the tears reflect a variety of emotions, beginning with happiness.  When I see Brittney’s and Zack’s smiles and laughter, I well up from their genuine expressions of joy.  It truly looks like it is the best day of their lives, so far.  When I see how much our guests seem to be enjoying themselves, I’m filled with pride and gratefulness.  When I watch Dick give his father-of-the-bride toast using his classic sense of humor, I laugh out loud again and again.  But when I look at pictures that include me, the emotion I feel is one that I did not anticipate.  I look at those pictures, and I see my Mom.  While many have always said that I look like my Mom and that Brittney looks like me, I have just politely acknowledged it.  I must confess when I first saw the pictures, for a millisecond I thought it was my Mom! (And not just because I wore the same dress she wore at my wedding).  In appearance, I have indeed become her.  Yet it wasn’t the facial resemblance that’s stayed with me.  No.  It was the appearance of my hands captured by the photographer when I was tying the bow on Brittney’s wedding dress.  While my nails were freshly manicured, my hands looked like I remembered my Mom’s…old.  And the resulting emotions range from reminiscence and nostalgia to melancholy and reflection.  Then when I look at the picture of Brittney’s hands, the one with the focus on her wedding ring, my thoughts change.  And I feel a smile taking over my emotions, as I begin to muse about what Brittney’s hands will look like when she proudly ties the bow on her daughter’s wedding dress.  Humm.  Wonder if she will look like her Mom, too?