After a screech and scrape of metal against metal, a
little advice from the man in the backseat, and a panic response
that led to the meeting of the left rear bumper and a brick wall,
I took a big, deep breath. “Now I have to tell your dad” came
out of my mouth. Heart pounding and feeling a little sick and
sheepish, I drove around to meet my most loving and gracious
husband.
No one, most of all me, wanted this unfortunate car vs
dumpster situation to cloud or color the event before us. After
apologies, contrition, and an agreement that it was most
important to put this aside until much later, we traveled to our
downtown destination. I practiced deep breathing and resolved
to settle down for this most important celebration before us.
My backseat passenger and his dad noticed my elevated stress
level and massaged my shoulders to assist in relief. It was a
generous and welcome laying on of hands.
After an hour of technology set up, a space in which I
can feel most inept, we worked through the issues and were on
our way to rehearse for the wedding ceremony. From that
point, all went well on this day. The energy was high,
relationships were formed and renewed, and stories were
shared. We enjoyed the video of bride and groom childhood
photos set to sentimental songs. The video that I lovingly
prepared then transitioned into a visual narrative of this
couple’s story. I went to bed most grateful.
Around 6:00 am, we heard groaning and crying in the
loft above our room. Our youngest girl complained of stomach
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