Fordham University has a gorgeous chapel. As part of getting married there, they provide a day-of coordinator who also conducts the rehearsal. This is a college student. Has anyone interacted with a 19 year old lately? Ever notice if they aren’t relatives, they’re kind of annoying? Like…totally, okay?
Thankfully, my sister, my glorious sister, was once the wedding coordinator and knew the ins and outs of running the rehearsal. She stepped up her teacher voice and asked the organizational questions that I didn’t know to ask.
Cutest moment ever was when my nephew was asked if he wanted to walk down by himself or with the flower girls. He, sizing up the girls thoughtfully, wisely said, “With the girls” in his v. special resigned 5 year old way. Out came his hands to pretend to hold a pillow. Heart clutch!
One thing I failed at was getting the order of the wedding party right, not knowing that putting them in order of importance going down the aisle would be reversed because they have them enter the aisle at the other end. Small…little…insignificant detail. If you care about that sort of thing. The calligrapher side of me cared, the person that knew better did not.
Also, a hint of drama at the ordering of the parents. His divorced parents. But everyone remained civil which I very much appreciated.
Also, my uncle did the ceremony and he also took over part of the rehearsal.
He was great. Kept the vows a secret. Pumped up the crowd for the responses the next day.
And before I knew it we were done and off to the rehearsal dinner, that epic event that one set of his parents had become…much. less. than. civil. over.
We did it at Umberto’s Clam House. And it was great. The tables were decorated with mums and awkward pictures from our childhoods. One person’s toast was v. biblical, but in the end, very nice and touching.
Then my dad decided to read a poem he wrote for me, entitled “Yes”. Open floodgates. Realization. Marriage. No longer someone’s child but someone’s wife. It was a heart fluttering moment.
Everyone had a great time at the rehearsal, showing that in the end, you really don’t need to worry about the small stuff or make it into something that it isn’t (the disaster I predicted). Everyone there was there to celebrate us and did they ever.
I left with my parents, to sleep in my childhood twin bed, with my wedding dress hanging over my bed from the ceiling fan. And sleep I did.
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