The Big Day!

There is a long narrow hallway off to the left of the sanctuary’s main entrance. The first room on your right is guarded by a plain unpolished brown wooden door but this is not a normal door. The top half opens separately from the bottom; locking children inside while adults can look out. It is a nursery room. The room is small, square and white. The smell of animal crackers, fruit juice and urine wafts towards your nose from the blue carpet. Although the room is air conditioned, the Arizona July heat still seeps into the room; creating a stifling atmosphere. At the very back of the room is another door. This one is heavier than the entrance door and it opens into a tiny tiled bathroom; a shared bathroom with the next room. The smell of urine attacks your nose as you enter; too many years of children missing the toilet. Looking to your left you notice a sink counter covered in the essentials. There is a curling iron, hairspray, foundation, mascara and eye liner splayed all over the counter. The mirror above is not incredibly clean but it serves its purpose.

Back in the nursery room the crowd is overwhelming. There are people and toys everywhere. In one corner stands a dilapidated doll house surrounded by stuffed animals and building blocks; amazingly there are no dolls in sight. Little tables and chairs fill the empty space not swarmed with toys; no adult could fit in these chairs and none would want to. The chairs are a multitude of colors and not because they were manufactured that way. There are crayon markings littering every piece of furniture so the people in the room elect to stand. The room is filled with four women and one man. Three of the women are young and dressed identically in champagne colored dresses with matching shoes. There is one older woman dressed in a white and black sparkly skirt suit. She is smiling and shedding glitter every time she moves. The lone man in the room seems large in comparison; he is over six-feet tall and the owner of a rather large beer belly. He is dressed in a black tux complemented by a platinum vest. He is also smiling but moving nervously from foot-to-foot.

I stand looking around the room, nervous but confident. The nursery at my church is not the ideal place to prepare for my walk down the aisle but I have told myself that I cannot be picky, not today. Most of my attention is focused on attempting to put myself back together after standing outside for hours on the fifteenth of July. I don't know how brilliant I was to take wedding pictures in 115 degree temperature but I staunchly refused to take all my pictures against a dull painted wall. Looking at myself in the mirror I see how much work still needs to be done and call over my Mom and Maid of Honor to help. I ask them to help re-curl my hair while I work on makeup. I quickly re-apply foundation and mascara to give myself a fresh look; no bride wants to look like she has been melting for hours.

I am starting to get slightly jittery. My hand does not move as smoothly as I would like when I start applying a thin strip of brown eye-liner on my upper lid. I decided to do my own make-up on my wedding day because I knew I would have to re-apply almost everything and I wanted to look like myself on the big day. Who wants to look at pictures of someone so made up it barely looks like them? Slowly everything gets done and I step out of the bathroom back into the nursery. Unfortunately, the eyeliner is still in my hand as I am walking and it slips while attempting to place the plastic cap on. Before I can think or move, the brown pencil is falling down the front of my white lace dress creating a zig-zagging brown line from bodice to train. I look at my mom’s face and her mouth is open in horror. She immediately looks at me to see my reaction.

“Now don’t panic Kelly. I have shout wipes we can get it out,” my mom says, attempting to soothe away any worries.

Surprisingly I am calm. I remember the countless spills and accidents I have encountered in my life - I am something of a klutz – so I immediately know what I have to do. I grab a few packets of wipes and immediately start rubbing out the stain.

“Don’t rub, BLOT,” my mom yells.

“Mom, don’t worry. I know how to get out stains,” I say, while looking down at my dress. “See, it is already coming out.”

I can’t quite believe how calm I am and I can tell that everyone else is surprised too. I am not screaming or crying, I am just calmly yet determinedly working on each and every spot; digging through the lace to get to the brown stain underneath. I now have all bridesmaids and my mom hovering around my dress; digging into the stains while staring at me as if at any moment I will crack.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I say, as I try to reassure my worried loved ones.

It doesn’t take long for the stain to all but disappear; there is still a faint trace of brown underneath the white but it is barely noticeable. As soon as the last trace is gone the door opens and I look up.

“Everyone is here. We should get started,” the coordinator states, while herding everyone towards the door. “Sheree you walk down the aisle with Ryan first, so let’s line up and get going.”

My mom walks to the front and heads out to find my brother, her walking partner. I grab my Dad’s arm and line up at the very end. In the distance I hear the music begin to play. Taking some deep breaths I walk with my Dad out of the nursery and towards the doors that signify my future.