Thank you, friend.

Since my closest friends are married, looks like I'll be featuring matrons of honor instead of maids.  Yes.  Matrons of honor.  As in plural.  When you've been the maid of honor in the weddings of both of your closest friends...I refuse to choose.  Both of them have been instrumental at different points of my life in different ways.

But I want to talk about one of those friends for a moment.  She's a God-sent friend.  All because of my mom wearing one of those poofy Pentecostal hair bows.  This friend prayed for a friend who was a believer, a friend so that she wouldn't feel alone.  She got up off of her knees and walked into the student center, and there was my mom in a skirt and the back of her head with that fateful hair bow.  When I arrived soon after my orientation session, I joined the tearful chorus.  And the rest is history.  (The last line was corny and unnecessary and cliché, but that's what I do.)

I was being all un-giddy and slightly unmotivated concerning wedding planning.  I just haven't really been into it, as I've mentioned before.  Like, I'm excited, but I'm not all...you know, wanting to go to David's Bridal and pick out bridesmaid's dresses and look at accessories and decorations and everything.  You might even say I was being cynical and negative.  Just thinking about wedding planning made me sigh with a touch of ennui. (You're welcome.)  All these fussy little details.  All these questions to be answered, decisions to be made, people to deal with.  Knowing that even though "it's my wedding," it's kind of not because I'm not paying for it and not just that, but it is kind of for everybody else.

But my God-sent friend came to visit, insisting that we go to David's Bridal.  At least to pick out a main color and look at styles of bridesmaid's dresses.  So we went, and I immediately got overwhelmed with all the choices laid before me.  All the styles, all the materials, all the possible accessories...(sigh).  But at least I decided on a color. Iris.  (You're welcome.) And eventually I did find a style that I thought was classy and versatile and could be accessorized with either a chiffon shrug or a satin bolero. (You're welcome.)

But then...my God-sent friend wanted me to try on wedding dresses.  But my wedding dress is being made.  But she insisted.  I tried to be a good sport about it, just to try to get in the spirit.  I tried on the first dress and it looked very classy and pretty and lacy and everyone oohed and ahhed and I felt like a how I imagine a princess might feel.  But then the saleslady put a veil on me.  And when I saw myself in the mirror with that dress on with a veil, I just teared up.  I'd never seen myself like that before, and I was shocked at how moved I was.  Seeing myself in a way that I'd only previously envisioned for other people was profound.  A Lacanian moment if there ever was one. (You're welcome.)  There was something about seeing myself in a wedding dress and a veil that brought the reality home in a fresh, poignant way.  I'm getting married.

I don't know how to explain it, but weddings and wedding dresses and wedding colors and flowers and venues and receptions and honeymoons were for other people.  These kinds of things weren't for me.  They weren't things I would ever realistically need to be concerned with anytime soon, or so I thought.  They were in other people's vocabularies.  They were other people's concerns.  They were a part of other people's lives.  In other people's orbits. Not mine.

It took seeing myself in a wedding dress and veil, as a bride, to realize that these things are mine.  That these things are a part of my vocabulary.  A part of my life.  A part of what is happening to me right now, not in some indeterminate future.  I have a ring on my finger and I have a date set.  What's happened and what's happening now is what is going to continue to happen: Everything falling into place.

So, thank you, friend.  Thank you for helping me to realize that this is a singular time in my life.  Thank you for taking the time out to come see me.  Thank you for making things special for me.