our southern wedding.

  There are those days in life that you remember most. It might be simple details strung together that formed a fond memory. It could also be a grand event that took much deliberate thought and planning. Through tears and moments of inadequacy, Jason and I reached the day I will forever hold dearly in my heart and mind's eye. Our wedding day was October 19, 2013. The beginning of the day was anything but perfect. I woke up at six o'clock with rain tapping fervently at my window. In hopes that I was dreaming or that sleep would clear the skies, I fell back into a deep slumber. A few hours later the alarm sounded. It was still raining.
  We travelled down to the country home from my parents house squished into a car. We enjoyed chatting and excitement rumbled throughout my body. I felt as though it was any other normal day. Sitting in the small Honda Civic, I reflected on the past days, weeks and years even. Jason and I had travelled a muddy road, much like the then soiled dirt road my parents' live on. After friendship and courting, a relationship and long-distance, we were approaching a clear path in the midst of a thunderstorm.
   I can't say that I was not worried. By mid-morning our wonderful friends were setting up our outdoor wedding in the rain. Antiques were left until the rain passed, but everyone worked relentlessly to ensure the wedding was set to go at four o'clock. I could not tell you how many times I said to myself, "it's not raining that much," to keep myself from falling into tears. I would not let the day be ruined. Jason called me that morning. Sweetly, he reminded me that he was going to marry me that day. I mentioned that I might be walking down a wet aisle and he responded saying that it would be no drier than his eyes. At that moment, I knew the day would be perfect.
   My best friend since fifth grade curled and pinned my hair, reminding us of the days we would put on make up and take tons of pictures to pass time. My momma and sister gathered around me and helped put me into my wedding dress--the same dress my mother wore walking down the aisle to meet my daddy in 1978. It came time for pictures and the sun was starting to show its face. It was perfect and I was beyond pleased.
  From that moment on, there were no hiccups. I lived the rest of that day as though I were in a dream. I cried walking down the aisle to take Jason's hand. I laughed joyously as we ran down the aisle as pronounced "Howells." I danced into the night with my husband by my side, and even better, in my arms. And to end the evening, I drove a vintage, fire engine red VW bug off to our honeymoon. I loved that day. Luckily, I wake up to a reminder of my wedding every day.