A Toast to Lauren & George

Photos by Tom Smarch of A Wedding Tale where noted.

As you likely saw awhile back, my sister Lauren and her lovely George were engaged to be married, and the big day finally has come and gone. The week at home was really wonderful, but man, was it a whirlwind of activity!

George is from Czech Republic, and his parents, brother and sister-in-law were in town to celebrate the wedding with us, and it was such a joy to meet and get to know them. I know now very clearly where George gets his good looks, kind heart, gentle nature and sharp sense of humor. I also more fully understand what people mean when they say that a wedding is a merging of families, not just two people. We are fortunate to be a part of this union.

It was an emotional whirlwind - we met the family, prepared the details, put together the floral bouquets (which is quite a feat, but clearly feasible with some patience and creativity!), bought the party supplies, set up the venue and got ready for the big day. Friday, September 11th was the date for the wedding, and it was incredibly fun, hectic and beautiful.

The weather held out and we were able to have the ceremony outside on the green grass of the golf course, and the blue sky was revealed right before we descended onto the lawn. I was strong and not emotional until the very last moment - when I walked down the aisle ahead of the flower girls and my sister, on the arm of my Dad, it was at that moment that the emotions hit me. I began to shake, and tears welled up in my eyes.

As I watched my sister, younger than I by three years, walk down the aisle looking radiant, happy, gorgeous and smiling, I could hardly keep it together. It was as if there was no one else there, just her, as she walked our way. Time had stood still. Thank goodness Jill had the forethought to give me a monogrammed hanky before I left town - I needed it more than ever. Gripping my lime green roses with one hand, I dabbed at the tears that tried to fight their way down my face, and snuck a glance at George. His grin was genuine, heartfelt and huge - which was all it took to send me into a happy cry.

The wedding ceremony was lovely, special and intimate. The party afterwards, held in the gorgeous ballroom that was graced with all of Lauren's special and thoughtful touches, was part fun and part a blur. You know that feeling when you are in a moment, but can't seem to slow it down enough to really notice all of the detail? That was how I felt. My Mom and I wish we could go back and rewind it all and attend as a guest - just to take part in it all again.

My toast was sincere, and I managed not to sob as I delivered it. I believe it states concisely (yet not fully) how it feels to watch your sister marry the man of her dreams - it is not enough to say that you love her. She is part of who I am, and I am happily, willingly, letting go enough to watch her walk into her new life with George. I am fuller now, with him in our family, and know that lifelong happiness is headed our way.

I reprint the toast here, to share it with my family again for posterity, but also to try to capture in writing how I felt at that moment. For those of you that don't know us personally, George is a very tall man and fits in nicely with my tall family - anchoring us if you will. You'll get more out of the below you if you know that up front.

I am so honored, proud and in love with my sister, and couldn't be happier to have been a part of the day celebrating her love with George.

Congratulations to you both! I love you so much.

--

I am pretty sure they call you the Maid of Honor to make you feel better about having to get up here and spill your guts to a large crowd of people. No, really, it IS an honor to be a part of this day celebrating Lauren and George.

Having a sister is a strange thing – and by the time I started to figure out how lucky I was to have one, I had moved away.

First to college, leaving her to take over my bedroom and drive my car (both of which kind of irked me at the time). Then, to an apartment downtown, while she was still in Athens living life and growing up. And finally, I moved 1,000 miles away to Chicago, and we became closer than ever.

Life is funny that way.

But for most of our lives, Lauren and I struggled to cherish how incredibly fortunate we were to have a built-in, God-given friend living under the same roof.

We fought, likely over who got to be in charge, bad 80s clothes, use of the phone, and mirror time curling our bangs and spraying them into something unrecognizable. It felt like we were either too far apart in age to have anything in common, or too close to want to admit it. We were clumsy as sisters, and I’m talking about more than just that time that I accidentally ran over her with the riding lawnmower.

Come on, the blade was turned off…

But then, it all changed. When I was in college and Lauren was in high school, she met a lot of the people who are here today, and I remember looking at her differently. She was not following my footsteps, she was forging her own. Then she joined me at Georgia and continued to grow up. (Not just taller). I liked her not only as a sister, but also as a person. Which was a far cry from trying to kick her out of the car on the way to high school for being grouchy in the morning.

Sorry ‘bout that one, kiddo.

It wasn’t really until I moved to Chicago, and found myself missing her point of view, or her stories, or her wide-mouthed belly laugh, that I realized that Lauren was my friend. As she got a new job, I filled with pride as I knew how impressed her bosses would be. When she bought a new condo, I was anxious to see how she’d decorated it (in under 2.5 hours flat). When she met a new guy, however …that was harder.

As the parents or older siblings in the room can attest – there is this instant feeling of panic. Not that she’d make the wrong decision, or do something stupid – more that she’d get lost in the moment and get hurt. I wanted to protect her, to teach her, to help her avoid the heartbreak that comes with dating. And it wasn’t like I’d had it down to a science. But Lauren, true to her personality, grew smarter and savvier, and pretty soon had it all figured out.

I’m still waiting for her to teach me….

When she met George, she talked about him in a way that suggested that she’d found a mate. Not just someone with whom she could see eye to eye (well, almost!), but also someone that could challenge, balance, teach and love her. Someone who could protect, advise, laugh with, and adventure with her.

Apparently, it was true.

I’ve always been inextricably linked to Lauren. I now realize that I was never fully me without her. And now I’m willingly letting go, just a little bit, to share her with George. I figure it’s a win-win. We needed another man around the house, and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a brother. Given the amount of legroom the five of us take up, though, it should be interesting just trying to GO ANYWHERE in the car together.

George, I couldn’t be happier to welcome you to the family, and know that you and I will become the best of friends – as well as family. You are a kind soul with a heart of gold and I know you will take care of my sister always. You probably won’t run her over with a lawnmower, either.

Lauren, I have never been more proud of you than I am today, and I have never been more certain about something than I am about you and George choosing each other. I have never been more thrilled to be included, and I have never been more honored to offer up this toast, to my beautiful sister, my friend.

I’m so lucky to have you in my life, and I know George feels the same way.

So let’s raise a glass to Lauren and George:

I wish you both a lifetime of lasting love, belly laughs, good health, smart kids...

and…extra legroom.

Na zdraví!
(Cheers in Czech)

Plus One

Oh. My. God.

It has come to this.

I open my Facebook account today, and have a new message in my inbox. And this was it.

--
Hi Colleen,

I am a TV producer in New York and I am looking to profile several single women who have been a bridesmaid many times over and who are now ready to finally be a bride.

At this juncture, we are looking to showcase one woman in her quest to find the right man to walk down the aisle with. Yes, it's a bit like 27 Dresses. The subject should be outgoing and have a close network of friends and family who share the common goal. Can you tell me a little about yourself? Family? Friends? Your job? How actively involved are the people close to you in your dating life?

If this sounds like it may be of interest to you or someone that you may know, or if you would simply like to hear more about it, please reply to this message. Thank you and I look forward to hearing from you.

Thanks,

Phil
Executive Producer, Kingfish Productions
--

First of all, how did this guy find me? Did he see my "Weddings and More Weddings" Album on Facebook? Has he been monitoring my status updates that say "off to a wedding" or some other helpful clue? Has he been stalking me on the Interweb?

Now, I fully admit that I have been a bridesmaid like a gagillion times. I have been to trizillion weddings.

I have worn light pink, dark pink, light pink with dark pink, grey, navy, black, and brown dresses. I have had to have every one of them altered, and have had to pay through the nose for the added 10 inches of fabric that constitutes "extra length."

I have bought dyed shoes in brown, black and taupe, and have sported heels, demi-heels and near flats.

I have worn my hair down, up, half up half down and somewhere else in between.

I have had my nails filed, buffed and painted in a variety of "approved shades" to match the other ladies.

I have been the MOH (maid of honor for those uninformed), the COB (cousin of the bride), a reader, a greeter, and the token sorority sister, college friend, childhood friend, Chicago friend and tall friend.

I have stood at the front of the congregation on the far left (tallest to smallest), on the far right (MOH duties prevail), on the far middle (a bell curve was desired) and everywhere else in the row of beauties.

I have entered the church, one step (slow down!) at a time, to trumpets, violins, piano, organ, keyboard, a three-part harmony, and a choir.

I have carried floral arrangements ranging from the delicate to the monstrous in spring, summer and fall hues of pink, purple, blue, orange, yellow, red, white, peach, maroon and green.

I have danced the Macarena, the Electric Slide, the Shag, the "high school dance with shoulders apart," the Posse Dance, the ZTA Sisters dance, the Two Step and even participated in the Limbo.

I have flown to weddings, bachelorette parties, engagement parties, bridesmaid luncheons, post-wedding barbecues, showers, showers and more showers.

I have bought presents off the registry, from a small boutique, from a huge department store, from a local gift shop and from the Internet.

I have a registered login and password to TheKnot.com and WeddingChannel.com, NOT to plan my wedding, but to buy presents for brides and grooms.

I have loved all of it, by the way.

But, does all of this qualify me to be on a reality show? A sad over-produced television program not-so-loosely-based on a successful movie with that chick from Grey's Anatomy in it? Always a bridesmaid, never a bride?

I'd be mortified.

But, wait.

Maybe I could register? And hold a huge TV premiere party where people have to send back a pre-stamped RSVP card, bring a guest, sit at round tables according to small place setting notes, eat chicken or steak, dance to a local band, drink too much, make out with my cousins/friends/college buddies, crash in a hotel nearby and bring me gifts?

Now, for that, I'll RSVP yes. Plus one.

**The photo above the post is from my friend Liz's bachelorette weekend at the lake. Somewhat mocking tradition, and somewhat paying homage to outdated and unflattering fabrics, we all brought and wore an old bridesmaid dress, fixed our hair in outdated and unflattering fashions and put on hot pink (or mauve, as it may be) lipstick. Liz bought a wedding dress on eBay for $5 and sported it with style. We held a mock bouquet toss and even took group photos according to the hue of the aforementioned offending dress. Always a bridesmaid? Absolutely.**

Hippy Dippy, Revisited

In honor of my flight to San Francisco today for my cousin's wedding this weekend, I'll leave you with this flashback to another time and another flight. I wrote this back before I had many newbie readers, and would hate for them to miss out on all the fun.

Wish me luck as I travel to the West Coast and back (via Boise, of all places). Pray for on-time departures, kind gate agents (gotta get the Exit Row upgrade!) smooth flights, skinny passengers, or at least the good sense for me to put the armrest down.

Happy Labor Day weekend, all!

Good is in the Details

As you likely read, I was at a wedding of two close friends this past weekend.

Brett and I made the drive all the way north to Mackinac Island, and settled in (way back in time) to the slower pace of things to enjoy the celebrations. We walked, held hands, ate fudge, rode beach cruiser bikes, laughed at the horses (and avoided their poop!), dipped our toes in the chilly lake, admired the scenery, took photos of the Mackinac Bridge, ate wonderful food and met new people.

The wedding weekend was one of great joy, happiness and a real cause for celebration. As the bride put it in her thank you toast, it was a "fairy tale wedding" and that goes for the guests, too. The view from The Grand Hotel's veranda proved that there is a God, and he may have a partiality for northern Michigan.

But what may have struck me the most about our weekend, and the wedding in specific, was the details. Everyone knows that it is the little things that often make the most lasting impressions, and I must admit that this held true for us in our experience.

The families of the bride and groom had thought of everything. At the groom's dinner the night before the wedding, each guest took home a custom-made, personalized CD of the couple's favorite songs, tied with a purple raffia bow with a little silver charm that says "to love and cherish."

The hotel distributed one of the nicest gift bags, courtesy of the bride and her family, I've ever received at a destination wedding. It held the basic snacks and sweets and a set of travel sized toiletries and slippers for each of us. Slippers! How luxurious.

The canvas tote bag and a pair of monogrammed plastic glasses featured the wedding "logo." As a specialist in branding, it was a pleasure to note that the "brand" for the wedding was carried out consistently, and integrated across all medium. Including the multi-page "magazine" that the bride put together that highlighted fun things to do on the Island, dinner/lunch recommendations and a story of the couple—how they'd met, the proposal, and why they chose Mackinac Island for the setting of their big day. It was a lot of work, clearly, but it is these types of details that make a guest feel welcomed.

I was given a stunning bouquet of fuschia roses with green decorations as a thank-you for participating in the ceremony as a reader. The reading, which I published last week, brought many in the church to tears, and the bride's proud smile up at me from the altar while I pronounced each word with care, was worth all the nerves I had that day.

The guests rang little white cowbells, after basking in the mid-day sun with a flute of sparkling pink lemonade, to usher the newlyweds into their carriage.

Gifts, little things and thoughtful touches didn't stop there.

The reception tables were identified with art from a local artist each with a specific Island scene—the fort, the bridge, the Grand Hotel, etc.—and each guest was given a mini-version to match with their table. Each place setting boasted a Lenox silver butler's tray and a silk fan for the heat. When we departed the reception, each guest was handed a bag with the wedding logo in order to cart out the goodies, which now included a ribbon-tied box of J&J candies and cigars for the men. So local, so thoughtful and so fun.

Saturday night's cocktail party was a "make your own" ice cream sundae bar, and the favor that evening (as if we needed any more gifts!) was a sterling silver ice cream scooper. How delicious!

The long and short of it is this—the details truly impressed upon the guests that the families had considered our every need, want and desire—and were thrilled to honor us with the thoughtful little things. These touches may not be the things I remember in 20 years and I think back to the wedding, but they made an impact.

The little things I will likely remember are many...

I will remember the rays of sun alighting on the bride's sparkling pearls as she grinned her signature ear-to-ear smile and shifted her veil from her face.

I will remember the delightful breeze on the veranda as it graced the tables of friends and family, tousling the ladies' summer dresses and lifting the men's silk ties.

I will remember their first dance—slow, easy and deliberate—accompanied by a friend playing "Your Song" on the piano.

I will remember the choked up, heartfelt toast of love and gratitude that the bride's sister gave to a teary crowd.

I will remember the way Brett looked in his suit—shiny, proud and handsome—and the way it felt to walk through the weekend with him on my arm.

I will remember the way the groom looked down at his bride, and grinned, as if he knew a secret that we weren't in on, and wasn't going to share.

Good is in those types of details.

Three Simple Words

Little Stone Church, Mackinac Island, Michigan. Photo by Robert Jerstrom.
As you may already know, today is Jill and Josh's wedding day. We are on Mackinac Island, and don't worry, I pre-wrote and pre-published this post. I'm not holed up in a hotel somewhere in the Upper Peninsula writing this...I plan ahead.

When they asked me to be a part of their wedding, I immediately knew that a toast would be involved. I’m a tad of a sap and therefore knew I needed to put it down on paper for fear of getting too emotional and forgetting all the nice things I wanted to say.

But, when it came time to actually write the words to express my congratulations for the happy couple, I realized it was simple.

It all comes down to just three words.

Three words that change as our lives do, three words with varying meanings, three words that grow and bloom as we mature, three words that will last forever, from this day forward.

In the beginning, it was “Hi, I’m Jill.” as we formed a friendship that would last for a lifetime.


After our introductory two years in Chicago, it was “Let’s move again.” as we continued on as roommates and ‘better halves’ for five years.



Not long after, it was “I met someone!” as Jill celebrated the joys of a new romance.


Proudly, Jill announced, “This is Josh.” as he moved to Chicago and became a part of the life we’d formed in the city.


Then it was, “I love him.” as things with Josh got more serious, and their relationship grew into something special.


Last July, it was “We’re getting married!” as the promise, and the ring, sparkled in the sunshine and they took the first steps towards becoming husband and wife.


Put simply, three words to describe Jill are kind, spirited and thoughtful. The same can be said about Josh, and I gladly hand over my better half to him.

(To be fair, though, I’d probably have to admit she’s really only my ‘better one third’ because of our significant differences in height).

Jill and Josh, I toast the beginning of your life together with three more words:

Congratulations, my friends.

All Dressed Up with Nowhere to Go

This one is for the ladies. And, only the ladies, I fear.

(sorry guys)

Gals, not to be crass, but do you ever splurge so much on one item that you have to plot out how to wear it as many times possible to maximize the longevity of it and to minimize the cost-per-wearing?

Yep. That'll be me. I bought the most beautiful dress at Nordstrom last week, shown below. I don't want my mother to know exactly how much I spent, so I pulled the image from the designer's website.

I will get to don it a few times: first to my friends' wedding in Mackinac Island, Michigan in a few weeks. Second, I'll just HAVE to wear it to the formal wedding I'm attending with Brett in September at the Hotel Intercontinental here in Chicago.

Okay. So that is twice. The cost-per-wearing is still a tad on the high side for this bargain shopper. What now?

Do I start wearing it to work? To the office holiday party? Bowling? To the movies? Show up at the local dive bar in my black taffeta cocktail dress?

I just might.

I will say this, however, about Nordstrom's dress department. I had the absolute best shopping experience there I've ever had. Yes, she managed to get me to more than double my "budget" for the dress (yeah, I'm a real tough sell), but she somehow made the whole process fun.

Which says a lot, considering at one point I was squeezing myself into a borrowed pair of Spanx nude-colored, knee-length strangulation tights in order to smooth the bumps under one satin number she'd brought me.

Tangent alert: How do women wear those things? I turned blue from the waist up, I feel certain, from those things squeezing my thighs. And, the crotch hole? Just unladylike if you ask me. The nude hue does nothing for my complexion, and the NASA-developed space-leotard fabric just pushed all the excess fat above and below the Spanx, which was entirely unpleasant to both the eyes and the legs. Yes, I'll concede that they are a Godsend for some outfits, but I wouldn't have been able to consume a cocktail, much less dinner, if I was strapped into them. And, what's a wedding without enjoying some free drinks and food?

Back to the dress in question. So, I love it. And, it does NOT require any Medieval skin-gripping torture devices underneath in order to fit well and feel good. I swore I'd never buy another black dress, but this one has just that right amount of pizzaz and uniqueness to stand out just a little without calling too much attention away from the inevitably stunning bride. Best of all, I already have the shoes and the bag.

And, I emailed the salesgirl the following morning, when, to my dismay, I noticed on the designer's website (while showing the excellent purchase to my friend Katie) that they were running a 15% promotion off all dresses for the weekend, and she immediately (no questions asked) credited my account for the total 15%. What a gal!!

Working in marketing, I know that consumerism and shopping in general is almost entirely driven by the "brand experience" and I thanked her for continuing to make mine a great one. She knows she cemented my loyalty as a Nordstrom shopper, and I sent her boss an email bragging about her. And he actually responded. I know how important this stuff is, and wanted to do my part as the shopper on the good end of a customer service experience.

Because, after getting rudely treated at any number of stores while spending your hard-earned cash there, isn't it nice to experience someone who loves their job, is good at it, and makes you feel glad you stopped in? I think so, too.

Maybe I'll wear the dress over to thank her? That would bring me to three total showings, reducing my cost-per-wearing to something I can almost bear.