Friday night, at the wedding rehearsal we had moseyed up (down?) the aisle and were standing at the alter when the minister turned to me and asked, “What did the bride tell you your title was?”
“Maid of AWESOME,” I replied.
“No,” the minister objected.
“Really,” I said, “I am the matron of awesome. I am.”
“No. YOU are the engineer.” He then proceeded to tell me that the main purpose of my role in my sister’s wedding was dress fluffing. And holding her flowers.
Hmmmph.
Way to minimize my role there, mister.
Of course, I believe there is more to it than that – and not just because I was miffed about him squashing me down to a peon who basically carries the queen’s skirts. The minister wasn’t someone familiar with my sister, her groom or our family – he spent a lot of time trying to be witty, cracking poor jokes and acting as though he was headlining a comedy club rather than officiating a rehearsal for a wedding.
The weeks leading up to the wedding, I was a sounding board for everyone who had a hurt, a complaint, a vent, a question about wedding hooey (and THAT is why I slept so poorly in the weeks leading up to the day). The day of the wedding, I spouted optimism when my sister was fretting about her fiance’s (NOW HUSBAND!) having the flu and how he spent all night puking and what if he were too sick to be at the wedding. We went on with our morning as though everything was fine, getting our makeup done, eating bagels, drinking SUPER BIG coffees from Starbucks (and I don’t usually get a Venti, but if ever there was a Venti-day, it was Saturday). We laughed and kept the nerves at bay for MOST of the day.
Eventually they hit – but for the most part, my sister was this picture of grace. She was chill, doing other people’s hair, messing with my mom’s eye makeup.
I was the one who used the double-sided special tape to make sure there were no fashion malfunctions with her strapless gown. And I guess engineering was involved in getting her to the restroom when she needed to pee (don’t ask – really. Just know that I sang “Oklahoma” so I wouldn’t have to listen to her pee).
We’re sisters.
Sure, I fluffed her dress.
But, sisters are more than dress fluffers and engineers. I hope one day my daughters stand together for each other on each one’s special day feeling about each other the way I feel about my sister, the way I felt on Saturday. Knowing that there was a bond stronger than sticky tape and a wrinkled train.
About sarah
What a wonderful post. I look forward to the day when my sister gets married and I can be the Maid of Awesome. Having two daughters I hope the same for them, that one day in the future~that they will be each others Maid of Awesome too.