A Wedding Disaster... Or Was It?

by Sheila Holmes

  Did I tell you I am trying to help my adorable daughter plan a wedding? It is going to take some real commitment time and work to get everything done and make it as fabulous as she deserves!

  I'm a blessed mom!

  Time was made to read one last email from KiirstiAan and responding to it before rushing out the door to catch her plane...

  KiirstiAan's email reply to me:

  Yay! We're back in The Weeping Willow!

  I read something today about you.

  I didn't realize that King Solomon and you were such close friends.

  "Strength and honour are her clothing; ... She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.

  Her children arise up, and call her blessed..." ~ Proverbs 31:25-31.

  I LUV U!

  My email reply to KiirstiAan:

  You adorable girl! I can't imagine any things you could say to me that would give me more joy. I am so grateful for the woman you are, and that you appreciate me just for who I am (warts and all!).

  Now...

  Hold those loving thoughts until I get home. You think I work hard?! You have no idea all the work you are going to be doing? You aren't going to believe the amount of work that is yet ahead of us (not me... us!).

  1. Reception menu?

  2. DJ selection?

  3. Music for wedding?

  4. Music for reception?

  5. Videographer?

  6. Favors for reception guests (purchased or handmade)?

  7. Photographer?

  8. Decorations for reception hall?

  9. Table centerpieces?

  10. One or two ministers officiating?

  11. DJ/live band/stringed quartet?

  12. Vocalist(s) for wedding?

  13. Gifts for your bridal attendants and flower girl?

  14. Seating decisions at the reception dinner?

  15. Registering at stores for wedding gifts?

  16. Wedding guest book style and size?

  17. Wedding guest registrar?

  18. Organist?

  19. Church wedding planner? (She'll take care of everything we forget.)

  20. Flowers (church, reception venue, bouquets, boutonnieres, corsages for mothers and grandmother)

  21. Evan's parents will take care of paying for the rehearsal, but if they're anything like my mother- and father-in-law, they'll tell you to pick the place, menu, etc., and they'll just give you a check to cover it all)

  22. Car/carriage/limousine from wedding to reception and hotel afterward?

  23. Decorations for above transportation, and who does the decorating?

  I'll spare you numbers 24 through 39. And I do that for two reasons... First, I don't want to scare you. Second, I left the original list at home, so I've probably forgotten some of the items that are on it. And, third, I haven't had the time here to read through the planning book I brought. (It's un-telling how many items I'll be introduced to when I start reading it again.)

  Suffice it to say that if we want your wedding to be free from any of the story disasters I've been writing about, the disasters of the stories I still plan to add, and any other possibilities that we can't even imagine, when I exit that plane, I'm going to have to hit the ground running! (And, don't think I won't grab your hand as I'm sprinting through the airport exit gate!)

  Feel free to re-think the whole idea of me being the Proverbs 31 mom (at least the "rise up and call her blessed" part).

  I'm going to be your worst nightmare!

  KiirstiAan's final email reply to me until I got home:

  I love you anyway, Mom!

  Oh, and I only have one thing to say in response to your threat...

  BIO (Bring it on!)

  Book II Sampler

  A Catastrophic Wedding Reception… Or Maybe Not?

  -Prologue-

  If anyone had told me that it was possible for a mother and daughter to plan a wedding almost entirely by way of email, I would unequivocally have said he or she was stark raving mad. And yet, here we were right smack dab in the middle of doing just that.

  We didn't start out with a plan to do so. It just sort of happened. I would ask KiirstiAan if she'd like to meet me at this place or that to investigate something or other, to which she'd almost invariably say, "Mom, I am so sorry, but I have a such-and-such meeting then. How about making it tomorrow instead at the same time?" . My response would be, "I'm so sorry, Sweetie. I can't go then. I have a doctor's appointment (or hair appointment, or dinner at a friend's house, or church meeting) at that time. Ok, tell you what... go online to (whatever).com and see what they have. If you see anything that you like, email with the website address and product item number, and I'll check it out." Every email conversation ran about the same, with small variables. And, over just a few days of this, we found ourselves (never having meant initially to do so) not even bothering to call or meet places. We just emailed back and forth. I think between us, we've researched our wedding needs thus far at maybe thirty-five or forty websites.

  Our online wedding planning patterns were quickly set. Amazingly enough, we were almost half way through the three months until KiirstiAan's wedding. And, although there had been some intense moments of frustration or uncertainty, it went quite well. We got a lot accomplished. Although there is still much to do, we're both grateful to say that the church- and reception venues were secured, the officiating pastor selected, bride's and bridal attendants' dresses purchased, and the florist assigned. (Why do I feel like this list of accomplishments should have ended "and a partridge in a pear tree?")

  At about week seven of planning, however, I hit a door, or maybe a wall, or perhaps a dead end. Maybe there's a more dramatic way of expressing it. If I could think of it, I'd use it, because I'm nothing if not dramatic. The truth is, though, I was just so tired that I felt like I had to get away for a while. I needed to be released from doing online wedding planning research, comparing online prices on "wedding stuff," emailing KiirstiAan back-and-forth to ask her this-or-that, as it applied to the upcoming wedding. Not to mention (although I will), that I had written seventeen wedding disaster stories (no, sixteen, I forgot I decided not to complete one of them). I realized part way into writing number seventeen that since it had been almost two decades ago that I attended that wedding, I had forgotten so many of the mishap details, and had no way to contact someone that also attended who could refresh my memory. As exhausted as I was, I felt I simply could not make up details that would fill in some pretty large gaps. So, to make sure I didn't re-visit the effort of moving forward with the story, I deleted all traces of it from my computer, then wiped it from my rather frayed, frazzled and fried brain. It was gone. Forever!

  Wedding disaster stories? What stories you ask? Oh, I guess I've left out some important information.

  We had barely begun our email wedding planning when my dear daughter, KiirstiAan, said that since I had attended, or been an attendant in over thirty weddings, beginning at age ten, and had seen so many weddings go so terribly awry, I should write a book chronicling each disaster. Thinking she would say forget it, I told her that I would, if she would proofread each and every one. But, alas, instead of telling me no, she enthusiastically said yes, yes, yes. That began a whole new job for me, the recalling and writing of sixteen of the most horrendous wedding disasters imaginable, all to which I was an actual observer. I now was both a wedding co-planner and a fumbling new author. Whew! Just thinking about it exhausted me.

  As worn out as I was by this point, my sweet and thoughtful husband said that I needed a week away to simply bask in the sun, eat splendiferous foods, and shop 'til I dropped in Charleston, South Carolina. He only made one stipulation, that during that week my laptop was off limits. I could not do anything wedding-related.

  Charleston?! My absolute all-time favorite place to be in the whole world. It took me all of three seconds to think over the offer. "Y
es. A thousand times yes!" And, by eight a.m. the next morning the luggage and we were out the door, backing out our driveway and headed to the most wonderful city in the world.

  I have no idea, looking back, how I managed to clear a whole week. I had two scheduled meetings, three wedding-related appointments, and a dentist appointment all to cancel and re-schedule. Plus, I needed to talk to KiirstiAan long enough to tell her we'd be back in a week, and in the meantime, she should do any things on her to-do list that she felt confident enough to handle herself. And, if she didn't, we'd resume our wedding plans when her dad and I returned. Most of that night before we left was a blur. Amazingly enough, I got everything taken care of, and off we went.

  The week was glorious. The sun shone with only a downpour one night that made the next morning just sparkle with freshness. I was a really good girl, too. I never once opened my laptop. I did take it with me, with the intention of simply checking my general email daily. But, my adorable husband paid so much attention to me, pampering me outlandishly with presents from some of my favorite stores, taking me on old historic house- and plantation tours, lavishing me with horse-drawn carriage- and tandem bicycle rides, ending each day with either dinner at some old favorite restaurant or dinner brought into our room, that I decided he deserved my undivided attention. Wow! It was like a romantic honeymoon! Vive l'amore!

  Upon returning home (and to the reality of continuing the wedding planning for KiirstiAan), I was invigorated and ready for whatever challenges those last seven weeks before her wedding brought. Little did I know that an email awaited me that would just knock the wind right out of me.

  -Chapter 1-

  KiirstiAan's email to me:

  Mom,

  I need desperately to get in touch with you, but you never told me where you and Daddy went! Things are going terribly, terribly wrong and I don't feel like I can make decisions without your counsel!

  I know my numbering drives you a little crazy, but it keeps me centered while on-task, so here goes:

  1. The Weeping Willow has put us back on a wait list. Apparently when they were working on the flooding repairs and upgrades, they hit an electric line and now have no electricity. The manager says while she's glad to keep us on the list in case things are taken care of in time for my wedding, she feels like it's unlikely. She needs us to call her immediately! You already have her number.

  2. Two of my bridesmaids can't be in the wedding after all. The dresses are already paid for. Too late to get a refund (I've already asked them). Connie can't come because her sister is having surgery (ACDF) and can't drive or hold the babies for six weeks afterwards. So, she's going to spend the first week there after surgery, taking care of things for her. Grace isn't coming because her family is getting together for two weeks during that time for a family reunion, which she had promised them months ago that she would attend once they decided on dates and location. What do I do now?

  3. I got a call from Delane (BridalExtrava-Gown.com) saying that she shipped my gown back to me when the painting on it was completed, but neither she nor I can find out where it is. I've tracked it at least twenty-five times. Each time it stops recording anything once it reached the UPS location in Nashville. Delane and I both have called the Nashville phone number, but they say they have no record of it. We've both called the location before there, and they say it was on board the truck, according to the manifest. I have no idea what to do at this point!

  4. And, if all the above isn't enough, I took my Victorian boots to work yesterday. One of my co-workers wanted to see them. I told her I'd show them to her while we were eating lunch. We were walking down the street to eat at the café. I tripped over an empty cigarette pack on the sidewalk (who would litter like that?) and dropped the shoe box in the gutter. Between the sewer water and whatever filth was floating in it, they have light brown stains on them. I took them immediately after work to the shoe repair place on Brighton Avenue. They said they didn't do that kind of cleaning. They suggested I take them to the dry cleaner over on Layne Street. They have them right now, but left me a message before I ever got home, saying it looked very unlikely that they would be able to get the stains out. I'm supposed to pick them up from them on my way to work in the morning. The lady said either the stains would be completely out, or they couldn't do anything. I am panicked, to say the least!

  Mommy, hurry up and get home! I need you!

  My email reply to KiirstiAan:

  Your dad and I just got home less than an hour ago. We're both exhausted! We love Charleston, but that five hour drive is a killer!

  I can't believe you have been going through this alone! But, I'm too mentally worn out to do anything about it tonight. Let's see... it's 6:45 p.m. That's too late to call anyone, or do anything of an investigative nature. We're going to unpack, eat a quick bite, then turn in for the night.

  Let us get some much needed rest and I'll get right on it tomorrow morning. In the meantime, between now and when I talk with you again (or email you), do any things that are on your list that you can do. If there's nothing, then just spend the time praying that the Lord will take care of some of these things over which we have no control.

  Oh, yeah... between now and tomorrow, go through your mind and decide on a couple of replacement bridesmaids. I guess that means that you need to start a brainstorming list of girls to fill Connie's and Grace's places. If you have trouble, think of girls at work, in your apartment building, in your Sunday school class, or any female relatives of Evan's. (What about that girl, Marta, Marcia, Martha... I can't remember?) You said you met her at the café close to your work. She's the one you said you thought you recognized when you met her there, but couldn't remember from where. It turned out she is one of Evan's parents' neighbors, and you see her outside in her parents' front yard almost every time you and Evan go to his folks' house.

  G'night, Sweet Stuff.

  Don't worry. Life as we know it (and your wedding) will still go on!

  Pray! He can work unbelievable miracles out of our blackest moments!

  *****

  My email to KiirstiAan:

  It's 9 a.m., up, and already on it!

  I called The Weeping Willow at 8:30 a.m. this morning. I spoke directly with the owner (not the manager). I told him what the manager told you. He said you are NOT on any wait list. He is the one working with the contractor and work crews, not her. He said that the information that she gave you was because of what the work crews told her. It was NOT what the contractor said.

  In fact, in the contract he has, there is a pretty stiff non-completion penalty, if not finished by two Wednesdays before your wedding. (He said there's no way they'd give up that much money.) I asked him not to get in his manager’s face about this. She was just concerned and thought you should be advised so that you could start making other arrangements. He said to call him and set up an appointment to meet him there, if you would like to see the progress made already and he'd go over exactly what must be done weekly to stay within the contract. I told him I'd give you his number and you could decide what you want to do.

  Plus, he was so upset that you were upset that he told me to relay to you that even if the work was not completed on time, he would transfer your whole venue to The Gala Experience downtown (at his cost). Have you seen that place?! Gorgeous and expensive!

  Really gorgeous and really, really expensive!!! (I actually looked at this place. It was not to be believed, but was so far outside our wedding budget that we gave up that idea immediately.) Are you ready for this? I was really pushy. I had him pull out your contract and add what he just told me. He did it and we both signed and dated it. You're covered either way!

  Of course, I can't do much about the bridesmaids' situation. Keep me posted on how that goes.

  Hey, what about your dorm room buddy that was down the hall from you? She's even local, right? Didn't you tell me she had accepted a position with a company here? (I think you said for two reasons: one is that her soon-to-be fian
cé lives here, and two, she can't bear the thought of moving back up north with all the snow, when it's so beautiful here all year 'round.)

  Has Delane or you heard anymore about your gown? Have either of you talked with anyone about it again? (This may or may not help, but I had a package go rogue one time also. But, I eventually got it. Turns out it was accidentally shipped to Canada somewhere, then it was re-routed and finally got to me.) Don't despair, just keep praying.

  Ok, listen carefully. About the Victorian boots. I am sorry that they were stained, truly I am. But, they're "things," Sweetie. Just "things." If the dry cleaner can figure out what to do, great. If no solution is found, we'll simply get you a replacement pair. Your dad and I don't want you stressing over unnecessary stuff. Your dad told me last night that this time should create the most precious memories of your life thus far (only better was when you were born into God's Family).

  Hey, this shoe-thing actually happened to one of my bridesmaids. She didn't drop them, they were food-stained. She bought a second pair, then had the stained pair dyed black. You could always do the same.

  Now that I've updated you on the concerns I could take care of, I'm going to have a cup of coffee, a bite of breakfast, then I'm going to pull out our to-do lists and plot out the best course of action for today.

  I'll talk with you later, Cutie.

  DWBH (You'll have to look this one up yourself!)

  KiirstiAan's email reply to me:

  Good morning, Mom. DWBH. I had to look it up in an online texting language site. "Don't worry, be happy!" I'm trying.

  Thank you so much for getting back to me so quickly today. I'm not feeling so much stress now that I know you're home and are working your wedding planning magic.

  I am sooo relieved about The Weeping Willow. Evan and I both just love that place and it would just break our hearts if we couldn't celebrate our reception there. I've also seen The Gala Experience. Well, what's there to say? Gorgeous, gorgeous-er, and gorgeous- est! At this point, come what may. I'm covered either way! (Hey, that rhymed!)

  Hey, guess what? I got a call from the dry cleaner this morning and they said they were able to get out all the stains, and they look as good as new, which is good since they are new. They said the cleaning solution they used, though, is so slow to dry that I have to wait until tomorrow to pick them up. I think they're really trying to do a thorough job. The woman I spoke with said they want to keep an eye on the shoes and make sure none of the stains works its way back to the surface. I told her yeah, that made sense, but frankly, why do they need to keep an eye on them? Either the stains are out or not, fully dry or not, right?