So, after about a half an hour of photos at the Statehouse, everyone packed back into the cars to head over to the Cathedral. I was immediately rushed downstairs to the undercroft, where everything was just as I hoped it would be: the box of brown bag lunches was waiting in the room for post-ceremony replenishment, the coolers with flowers were down there, and my tote with any-and-all day-of necessities was being carried around by my sisters with the same dedication you might expect of Marines carrying the nuclear football. Everything was perfect.
Upstairs, the church was gorgeous, the ushers were ushing, and people were slowly trickling in. With about twenty minutes until the ceremony, the priest came down and let me know it was time to head upstairs, to the back of the church. Since I would, technically, have to walk through a small part of the church, my people made a nice wall to block my passage…
In the back room, everyone started to line up in the correct order and things started to get real. My mom and dad worked together to get my veil and my blusher on correctly.
Just before the music started playing, my dad asked Colin, our best man, if he had the rings. Colin pulled the ring bowl out of his pocket and promptly dropped it, sending both rings skittering across the floor.
Everyone looked at me to see if I was going to freak out, but really, it was the perfect ice breaker. I laughed, and while Cait helped Colin tie the rings more securely, my dad and I shared a tiny sip of pre-ceremony whisky. That was it…it was time to get married!