I think I forgot to tell you how beautiful you looked on my wedding day.
As you put my veil on, I remembered the young girl you were 25 years ago, wearing your veil and getting ready to marry my dad and start a family when you were only 17.
My wedding day was a blur – we didn’t get to just sit and chat as much as we wanted, but I am so thankful for the moments we did have, laughing and getting our hair and makeup done and reading the letters we wrote to each other. I was so calm when I was with you, my mom, the one who has known me the longest in this life.
We didn’t get to dance together enough or take enough pictures together, and I’ll always regret rolling my eyes at you when you asked the DJ to play your favorite song (again) – I wish I would have told them to play it and put my hands up in the air. Plus, when is ever NOT a good idea to play Bruno Mars on repeat?
Wedding days are so fast. They are so busy. You don’t even know when they’re gone.
I remember pulling up to the venue, after I had alone time – just me and Jesus- crying and praying in my car on the way to the venue. The first person I saw when I arrived was you, running out to meet me, softly crying as you hugged me and then pulled my best friend into the hug. THAT was one of the best moments of the entire day.
I remember getting frustrated with you only once because you kept disappearing and hadn’t hung my dress for photos, but it was because you were outside making sure everything looked perfect for your little girl so that you could see the same wonder in her eyes you saw when you brought out the Barbie birthday cake at her fourth birthday party.
There are no pictures of us in the bride’s room the last few moments before I walked out to drop your last name and take a new one, but I’m kind of glad there aren’t — it’s one of those memories that pictures could never do justice anyway. We were alone – just a mother and her only daughter – both looking in the mirror as you stood behind me and made sure my veil was perfect, telling me how beautiful I looked. If you were ever sad about me belonging to someone else besides you and dad, you never said it – you only ever said how excited and proud and thankful you were that I would belong to someone as incredible and God-ordained as Caleb. And I never told you, but that has always meant the world.
After that moment in the bride’s room, we really didn’t get another intimate moment like that – just the two of us. We got to dance and we got to take pictures at the photo booth, but that mirror moment was my very favorite of ours.
Before we left the venue, you took me by the hand and showed me all the perfectly placed food and decor that I didn’t get to see and we hugged and cried and said goodbye 100 times like we always do. I was so happy to be with Caleb, but part of me was so sad that I would never live with you and dad again. I knew the days of laying in bed watching Lifetime movies would be a little fewer and the sleepovers would be farther between.
There just wasn’t enough time in the day to let you know how much I appreciated all the planning and the patience you put into my special day. Despite all my stress and worries, it all came together so beautifully for what felt like a brief moment and I have you to thank for so much of that. And that’s how it’s always been with you — all the big moments in my life have been beautiful because of you.
Oh, one last thing I didn’t say enough on my wedding day: YOU LOOKED HOT. I mean how does a mother of the bride even look like that?! If I could go back, I’d make sure to ask you to be my Matron of Honor and stand beside me at the altar, but I’m SO thankful you were there sitting in front of me, smiling and praying and being MY mom… and handing me my cell phone for the ceremony selfie.
I’m really looking forward to my daughter’s wedding so you and I can dance the night away and request Bruno Mars a million times and take a thousand pictures. And I’ll make sure to tell you how beautiful you look and how much you mean to me.
Thank you for being the mother of the bride on my wedding day.