Carl and I went to California for a wedding last weekend. I'll spare the details of the whole story, but know that it was a weekend crazy enough to have been filmed and become a movie....
The mother of the bride was also the maker of the wedding cake. Carl and I were staying with her, her husband, her son, and the father of the bride under the same roof. As is the case with all weddings, there is always a need for extra hands to complete last minute tasks. For reasons I will omit here, I decided to drive with the mother of the bride to the wedding locale to drop the cake off prior to getting ready at the hotel nearby. Just know that I am highly anxious in cars that speed, are aggressive, and have close calls while I am in them. Thankfully, I left Carl behind to ride with the husband officiator and the father of the bride.
On our way to the wedding locale, we get a call from the husband who also happened to be the officiator of the wedding saying he had been in a car accident with a motorcycle. This was two and a half hours before the wedding... Not only was he in an accident, but he was out driving around because Carl's mom had wandered from her hotel room in 101 degree heat and slightly confused. As luck would have it, the husband's accident occurred right across the street from where Carl's mom was standing, and thus found.
The people on the motorcycle went to the hospital... and are both alive with injuries.
Amazingly enough, everybody, including the husband officiator, made it to the wedding and we kept the details of the day from the bride and groom so that they may enjoy and remember the day as the one they committed to one another and not one of chaos and near catastrophe.
The wedding was beautiful, but by eight that evening, my nerves were shot. I felt ill. Carl and I went back to the house where less than three hours later, I unwillingly became queen of the porcelain shrine and remained in that position until 0500 on Sunday morning. We had to leave for the airport by 0630 for our flight home. Needless to say, by the time I got home Sunday, I was exhausted. We came home, shut the blinds and slept.
No more destination weddings for us for a while.... we're burnt like bad toast.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment