The Wedding

Well, the Big Day finally rolled around. The Boy & I were taken to the church & were carefully led to our changing room (so as not to see the Bride before the wedding). The Boy looked really sharp in his suit. We got ready & then gave each other a once over, looking like a pair of monkeys grooming each other. Keeping a ten-year-old in a tux proved to be quite a challenge, but we made it, nonetheless.

Everyone kept asking if I was nervous. I honestly wasn't. I knew that I wanted to marry T, without a doubt. The only thing that I was concerned about was the ceremony itself going without any problems. T was feeling the same way & was close to making herself crazy with all of the last minute preparations. The night before, I told her that everything was going to be fine; that, when it was her time to walk down the aisle, the doors would open & everything would be a blur after that.

Turned out, I was right.

"Oh, the humanity!"

To keep myself occupied I helped light the bajillion candles we had in the church. More than a few of them were new candles & were emitting flames a good three to four inches tall & puffing out soot like a locomotive. I went around, with the help of T's father, trimming the wicks.

Now, if you want to know what the flame will look like once you've trimmed the wick, you have to have the candle lit whilst trimming. I would trim a little off the top, trying not to snuff out the flame, & the piece that I cut would frequently still be lit. Or, at least, still be a hot ember.

And, Loyal Readers, this is when I found out just how quickly tulle burns.

After I snipped one of the wicks, the still aflame piece fell off the blade of the scissors, falling into a bundle of tulle, which instantly caught fire & went up like the Hindenberg. Fortunately, T's dad & brother patted it out & only a small hole was made.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten about a still smoldering ember that I had set in the paper towel in my hand. I was reminded, though, as the ember burned through the towel & into my bare hand. All this time, too, I had another snippet of the wick on the scissors. As I tried to extinguish the one in my hand, I watched in horror as the other piece fell off the blade & onto the carpet. After frantically stomping out the carpet, I decided that the wicks were fine as they were.

The fact that the church didn't burn down after this Inspector Clouseau-esque incident is a miracle in itself.

Is that "Songbird?" How about that? Is that it?

Eva Cassidy's "Songbird" was to be played while the mothers were being seated. It was also the cue for the Pastor, The Boy & myself to enter the church & assume our place at the altar. While we were waiting for the ceremony to begin, though, we had other music playing.

The three of us were sitting near the door where we were to enter, chit-chatting & whatnot. At the beginning of every song, The Boy would ask "Is that Songbird?", prompting me to start questioning it myself. It got to where I couldn't remember how the song started - & I was the only one who knew the song.

The person running the sound told us the playlist of songs before "Songbird," but that didn't help much when, due to some last minute seating, a couple more songs were added to the list to fill time. Eventually, I heard the familiar guitar that opens the song & in we went.

The time had finally arrived.

More to come...