My grandparents lived two hours away from where I grew up running through wooded trails, playing Little House in the Big Woods, and losing myself in every L.M. Montgomery book available. It became tradition, for a while: the van would pull up to their front porch, we would all tumble out after the winding trip up the mountain, and I would race up paneled stairway to be the first to put on a bridesmaid dress worn by one of my aunts at my Moms wedding before settling in for another viewing of her wedding photos.
Sitting there on the hardwood floor in my grandmothers attic, I would flip through the pages of her 10 x 10 photo album, composed of a 4 x 6 photographs placed on a self-adhesive magnetic page. The photos spoke of beautiful dresses, distinctly dated technology, and the most happy smiles imaginable from my parents.
The wedding was simple. Inexpensive. A couple bouquets, a cake from down the road, some punch and peanuts, and a photographer. But wow – what a magical set of photos celebrating one especially outstanding day in the life of my parents.
Each wedding is just that: an outstanding celebration. An exceptionally good day. Its a day of one comprehensive story filled with a series of little moments worth remembering, but a collection of stories that might be forgotten if they are not preserved.
A wedding day is the commitment together of two people, yes, but its also a celebration of the love of their families that have raised and molded them in the journey to today. Its the celebration of their friendships that endured the late night talks, the stressed out phone calls, the relational traumas that led to this day of commitment.
Its a day of outstanding celebration.