Thursday, August 21, 2008


Wednesday's Wedding was a mixture of joy, excitement, celebration, sadness, nostalgia, happiness, and enthusiasm all wrapped up in a neat, little 24-hour package.

The day started on a missionary note, however, as Twin-A had his last hoorah here (and was just two fried eggs short of finishing the Big Country Breakfast . . . failure) before heading to the temple for the ceremony and then straight to the MTC. Fresin looked radiant as she a Scoot walked out hand in hand. But it didn't resonate then that this was the end of a chapter in my life as well. Fresin and Twin-A took a snap shot together outside the MTC, she with white gown and ring, he with parted hair and knotted tie, before he headed off for a two year hiatus to teach and preach and do as missionaries do. It was good to be together one last time in a spirit of reverent elation for the momentous day.

After pictures we all headed our separate ways for the afternoon before reconvening later that evening at the picturesque resort in Provo Canyon. I had to arrive two hours early in my green dress and curled hair to look pretty for some pictures and get the scoop on how the ring ceremony was going to be carried out.

Honestly it was strange standing up there watching Fresin move gracefully in her gown, seemingly flawless, and completely comfortable at Scoot's side. She was stunning and the title of "wife" seemed one that she was always meant to wear. But I was continually jolted into a retrospective mindset as I dwelt on memories of growing up together. It was then that it started to sink in that gone forever are the days of sitting in the highest branches of the apricot tree and laughing together, sewing yards of leopard fabric into dozens of pillows, flying down Canyon Road in Lois (because Lois has wings), or doing our hair for date dances in her upstairs carpeted bathroom. No more would we meet for an after school snack and forget about the running bathwater upstairs or the nachos in the oven. Disasters seemed to strike us in the simplest ways (even though it was always a monumental undertaking to work up the courage to confess our idiocy).

The ring ceremony was longer than I anticipated, my left foot was nearly completely asleep when the rings were finally exchanged and the bishop's remarks came to a close. We mingled for a little bit while nibbling on cheese and crackers, the starters for our soon-to-be feast of grilled veggies, and assortment of breads, meats and mashed potatoes. The dinner was punctuated with toasts and tributes and the entire night was set to the soft jazzy tunes of the live band up front.

As soon as the formalities were taken care of, the floor was open to music and dancing and the whole room seemed to be overtaken by celebration. Our feet stomped the floor and our hands clapped in rhythm as our hips swayed and shoulders grooved. Eventually my entire family was out together bopin' away to classic tunes and funky beats. The night couldn't have been complete without a Congo line and I lead the trail of dancers as we wove in and out of the tables and finally found ourselves together again in the center of the floor. Put simply, it was a party. A party in honor of two of the best people I know who are beginning the long haul together. I can't wait to watch them grow.

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