Have you heard the story about my wedding?

As the manager of a fabulous bridal store, I'm often asked why I work where I do. My first answer is always the obvious- what girl wouldn't love to spend the day playing dress up and being a part of helping make the princess dream a reality for someone else? The real reason though is that my wedding was one disaster after another and I hope to alleviate the stress in one little area of the wedding process.
Doug and I had planned to be married in August of 1994, but after a better look at how his joining the Navy would affect our schedule we moved the date to April 30th. Of course it was March when we made this decision. Back then we were wild like that.
I, with my great Fabricland employee discount, decided to make my dress and I have to say it turned out pretty darn well. Granted I combined 3 patterns, added 40 hand sewn pearl buttons down the back, and skipped the roses attached at the rear. I carried that dress everywhere with me for three months and it was worth every second I put into it.
We were married in my grandmother's back yard, one of the few places that remained consistent through my childhood. Her yard was small but featured a fish pond and waterfall with an arbor above. The size of her yard meant family only though, something I wish I could have changed.
Our reception was held in the gym of a building in Kennewick I wasn't familiar with, but it was available, and we spent the evening before decorating. My mom arrived in town a little after decorating was to begin, delayed due to a yard sale detour where she purchased the dress and shoes she wore to my wedding. This should have been my first clue of events to come. Mom owned a balloon store at the time and brought plenty with her to decorate. Did I mention the backdrop for my receiving line was shower curtain liners? That's right, high class all the way.
The morning of the big day the fun began. I tore the lace off my hem right next to the grease smudge from my car, my mom forgot when things started and sent Doug away when he arrived, my flowers arrived with the wrong color ribbons, etc. Doug left his bag on the roof of our friends car and was extremely lucky to have a neighbor leave it on Doug's front porch. My sister busted the zipper of her dress right before we walked. There was a bee buzzing around us through the ceremony and Doug is very allergic to bees. You see where this is going.
The end result though is that none of that mattered. Fifteen years and four kids later we are still married, and still as happy as that sunny Spring day. I realized today while looking at tuxes for the shop that I don't remember what color vest Doug wore at our wedding. See how unimportant those little things really are in the end.