ABOUT WEDDINGS - The Wedding Day

PART FOUR

Crash, rumble, rip--thunder rolled and lightning flashed penetrating the room darkening blinds on the hotel window. Awakening with the shock of crashing thunder and lightning piercing my vision left me stunned for a moment. The phone showed three o’clock am. I pulled back the blind and observed the rain blowing against the window so forcefully that the view into the street was obliterated.  Oh, no, the Wedding!  Like another bolt of lightning, the thought rushed through my mind. They do have a plan B, I’m told, but with limited space and so many guests. Oh, no, it can’t be raining. But it is!

Later, in the morning, Hallelujah, the rain stopped with clearing skies and the promise of a sunny day ahead. Not only that, but the air felt cooler and more comfortable.  The crew rose early with instructions to get an early start on preparation of food for the reception.  And lights had to be strung all over the reception area. They grabbed a quick breakfast and headed for the farm. I had instructions to be dressed in my lavender suit and ready to depart the hotel at 3:00 pm.  I spent my day alternating between the Oklahoma shawl and the wolf story. Tasha and I sat waiting for them at 3:00 pm.

”Where are they?” Tasha lamented, when the clock reached the upward side of 4:00. “I’m supposed to be there at 4:30 for my hair to be done.” “Don’t worry,” I said. “Just expect it to be late.” Not comforted at all by my solution, she began to call on the cell phone. “I can do my own hair,” she said.

At nearly 4:00 pm, they rushed in with frustration written all over their faces. The rain had not caused any problems, in fact, the ground was dry. Okay, so all is well, but why are we late and stressed so badly?  No answer for that question. Stressing just seemed to be all they had left to do.  Mother of the Bride, dressed in her lovely, royal blue tulle dress, added appropriate jewelry and silver shoes, fussed with her wash and wear hair, and moved about the room worrying over that last one thing to do. I noticed how innately she looked the part she must play this evening with a calm exterior, even though she may be breaking apart inside.  Robyn, quickly dressed, looking cute and chic in her white pant suit with pink blouse, began her “we’re late, hurry, it’s thirty-five miles” routine attempting to herd us to the van. The weeks of stress would be over soon.  We arrived thirty minutes late for the Bridesmaid’s hair and makeup “party” upstairs in the apartment above the barn.

Hair falls next to the dress and makeup in priority.  Tammy, dressed for the wedding, worked feverishly to make the attendants beautiful with lovely coiffures, and Mandy applied the makeup.  The girls were packed into the small air-conditioned apartment donning dresses and jewelry (a gift from the Bride), and simply trying to stay cool on this hot afternoon. Tammy, stressed beyond her limit with so many hair-dos to complete, muttered to herself and anyone who would listen about the fact she couldn’t use hair spray.  Nathan, it seems, is dangerously allergic to hair spray.  How do you manage fine, long hair to stay perfect in the Oklahoma wind WITHOUT HAIR SPRAY? But, they all were lovely, and Aunt Tammy survived.  Tasha, although arriving late, “had it her way” with a pony tail wrapped up into a bun, no hair spray needed.

I found a corner where I could sit on my walker seat and observe the busy last minute details.  I marveled at how the long corridor through the middle of the barn had been transformed into a lovely reception area where guests would sign the book and walk out into the bright sunny afternoon to find their place near the arch.  With the garage doors up on both ends of the barn, the area, still under construction with crude unfinished areas, had been covered, walls and ceiling, with soft material of royal blue, mauve, and white; flowers and butterflies were interspersed changing the garage to a mood of magic equal to any wedding scene I have experienced.  Robyn, in her WHITE suit, rushed about helping with last minute wind repairs, armed with a staple gun and duct tape. Courier for the Bridal entourage upstairs, she raced up and down many times.

 Leading from the garage down the incline, the grassy path lined with flat stones formed a perfect aisle for the wedding party. Overhead a few puffy clouds floated in the cerulean blue sky that would greet Heather as she stepped out to walk down the earthen aisle.  NO RAIN IN SIGHT. The decorated folding chairs set up in the level area near the arch were only a few rows deep to accommodate the families of the Bride and Groom. Others will stand for the brief ceremony.

About thirty minutes late, the wedding party gathered in the garage to join the photography session carefully planned before the ceremony to avoid delaying the reception.  With the sun still high, guests waiting, and the Minister present, the party moved to the lower level and posed for pictures, always a necessary, but annoying, part of the wedding experience.  Another glitch reared its ugly head when the men discovered that the carefully decorated Guber (gas golf cart) apparently quit running.

 PANIC! How would they get all these disabled elderly folks down to the front row?  Not to worry! “We can walk,” the group responded with enthusiasm. Mitch Mason, the chosen driver for Guber (Mandy’s high school sweetheart, and currently in Navy pilot training) relaxed with a sigh of relief and agreed he could escort us down the aisle, making sure no one stumbled or fell.

The small, air-conditioned food prep area located on the first floor of the barn bristled with activity.  The aroma of cooking meats and a variety of cuisine floated throughout the reception area.  Nathan’s family and others, who joined to help, moved with the precision of professionals as they prepared the feast to serve the guests.  Remarkable people, with an amazing work ethic made farm life appear easy.

They maintained a thriving tee shirt business, cared for the ever-present chores of a farm, cultivated and preserved the farm product, and with a vision for the future, planned expansion.  However, Terry and Nora Turner extended their love for their only son, Nathan, and devotion for his chosen one, Heather, to proclaim, June 18, 2016, as a never to be forgotten red-letter day in the history of their Oklahoma farm.  Life stood still while memories were documented and embedded into family hearts.

The photography session ended, and the Bride and her entourage disappeared into the apartment for wind repairs. Tammy gritted her teeth and did her best without hair spray.  “Now, its time, girls,” the Mother of the Bride declared, following one last look at her lovely daughter. With a quick hug, she swept from the room to take her place downstairs. Clever at restraining emotion, Tracey stood tall, elegant, without a tear, awaiting the ceremony.

Next, ABOUT WEDDINGS – The Ceremony