Nearly eleven years ago I spent a week blowing into a brown paper sack and whispering reassurances to myself - in other words, I got married.
This last weekend, I was able to walk my youngest sister through the motions (craziness) of becoming a bride.
It's a strange phenomenon. You meet someone, fall hopelessly (and somewhat foolishly) in love. You dance, you date and then he bends down on one knee. He slips a small metal ring on your finger. The invitations are sent, the flowers are bound and you've shimmied yourself into white dress.
You analyze every moment leading up to the dreaded wedding. Every embrace, every conversation...down to the inflection of each word exchanged. Your hands tremble, your voice shakes - and then, you're a wife.
The building didn't implode, your hair didn't catch fire and the photographer isn't naked.
Life will go on.
And p.s., it'll be great.
I stood with my three children and husband behind my youngest sister with the sure knowledge, the ultimate comfort, that I made the best decision of my life nearly eleven years ago.
I wish all the joy (and the angst) for my sister and her groom. The late nights with crying children and the sweet kisses from those same adoring kids. Because just before every great moment is a hesitation, a question. The greatest athletes and writers alike analyze the seconds before their crowning moment. My "finish line" started an amazing journey through two states and three degrees, not to mention, a fantastic family of my own.
Cheers to the newly weds, may you have many moments of greats and finishes!