We will be celebrating Christmas with our extended family and heading out of town for our older daughter's wedding. I still can't believe I will be a mother in law. If I am as kind and sweet as my own mother in law, then it will be a good thing all the way around.
I won't be in blogland after the next couple of days until the new year, so I hope all of you have a merry, wonderful, and true Christmas and the happiest of holidays. If you know me on Facebook, you already have a preview of a story I will be working of how I found a 6 ft. blue indigo snake in our utility room behind the freezer. I will also be writing one on how a small pack of coyotes perhaps mistook me for their Christmas meal this afternoon when they pursued me while I was on a run. Rural life is never without excitement.
The winner of The Second Book of Pearl giveaway from my last post is Eva Gallant. Congratulations! If you will message me your address, you will be receiving your book very soon.
Feliz Navidad y Prospero Año Nuevo!
Showing posts with label wedding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wedding. Show all posts
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Tears: A Wedding and a Funeral
Tears, part one
My cousin got married. She is 27 and absolutely beautiful. She stands 6'1", is tanned, and has blonde hair. Her size 6 wedding dress was a secret to everyone but her mom and sister.
Her groom is an outdoorsman, quiet and not given to showing much emotion in public.
As he stood at the altar, ruggedly handsome in his tux, he was mentally willing all the bridesmaids to hustle down so he could see his bride.
Finally, the music signaled her entrance and all stood. The doors swept open and every eye looked back catch a glimpse. She was a picture of radiant loveliness on the arm of her dad. Her groom strained for a moment to focus, and then he melted. Tears streamed down his face as she walked that regal, slow bride's walk to him.
This muscled he-man was unashamed as he wiped away tears repeatedly when she neared him. It didn't take a lip reader to decode what he whispered to her as she took his arm.
"You are so beautiful. I love you."
I certainly wasn't the only one in the church dabbing my eyes.
Tears, part two
Yesterday we attended the funeral of a young man who died much too soon in a tragic, freakish accident. He had been on life support for two weeks and would have been a quadriplegic had he lived. He and his wife did not yet have children.
He was a fireman and all around us agreed he wouldn't have wanted to live a life hooked to a ventilator and confined to a wheelchair.
His sweet mother had been stoic throughout his hospital stay, bringing words of comfort and faith to others who had come to bring the same to her. Her husband had passed away at a young age and now her son was gone, too.
The family gathered at the back of the church, waiting to follow the casket in. His wife and mother were amazingly composed until they neared each other. They clasped arms and squeezed together. The sobs that broke forth from them both were utterly heart-rending and filled the church.
Once again, I was not the only one in the church dabbing at my eyes.
I believe tears are cathartic and cleansing. They are our companions in joy and tragedy. I've never been much of a crier, but as I get older, I seem to be moved to tears more often. I just need to remember to get some waterproof mascara and keep a supply of Kleenex in my purse.
My cousin got married. She is 27 and absolutely beautiful. She stands 6'1", is tanned, and has blonde hair. Her size 6 wedding dress was a secret to everyone but her mom and sister.
Her groom is an outdoorsman, quiet and not given to showing much emotion in public.
As he stood at the altar, ruggedly handsome in his tux, he was mentally willing all the bridesmaids to hustle down so he could see his bride.
Finally, the music signaled her entrance and all stood. The doors swept open and every eye looked back catch a glimpse. She was a picture of radiant loveliness on the arm of her dad. Her groom strained for a moment to focus, and then he melted. Tears streamed down his face as she walked that regal, slow bride's walk to him.
This muscled he-man was unashamed as he wiped away tears repeatedly when she neared him. It didn't take a lip reader to decode what he whispered to her as she took his arm.
"You are so beautiful. I love you."
I certainly wasn't the only one in the church dabbing my eyes.
Tears, part two
Yesterday we attended the funeral of a young man who died much too soon in a tragic, freakish accident. He had been on life support for two weeks and would have been a quadriplegic had he lived. He and his wife did not yet have children.
He was a fireman and all around us agreed he wouldn't have wanted to live a life hooked to a ventilator and confined to a wheelchair.
His sweet mother had been stoic throughout his hospital stay, bringing words of comfort and faith to others who had come to bring the same to her. Her husband had passed away at a young age and now her son was gone, too.
The family gathered at the back of the church, waiting to follow the casket in. His wife and mother were amazingly composed until they neared each other. They clasped arms and squeezed together. The sobs that broke forth from them both were utterly heart-rending and filled the church.
Once again, I was not the only one in the church dabbing at my eyes.
I believe tears are cathartic and cleansing. They are our companions in joy and tragedy. I've never been much of a crier, but as I get older, I seem to be moved to tears more often. I just need to remember to get some waterproof mascara and keep a supply of Kleenex in my purse.
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