 |
|
|
Between the fragrance of the lilies and the organ music, the air in the sanctuary was heady with promise and potential. The soft conversation and muted laughter filled the atmosphere with that common wedding vibration: sacredness and excitement.
A chord rang out from the pipes of the enormous organ, long and sure, then died, leaving an anticipation which hushed the crowd. The organist pushed her gemstone-encrusted glasses farther up on her nose, adjusted her girdle as surreptitiously as she could and launched into the next selection on the bride’s list. As the music began, the congregation turned in unison to watch the mothers being escorted down the aisle.
Janie’s mother came first, and consistent with her position as wife to this town’s most successful office products salesman, carried herself with confidence, outfitted as she was in a navy-blue silk suit she’d treated herself to on a trip to the city last year. She knew she looked as beautiful as she felt, with her newly-colored and coifed hair, the result of more than half a day at the salon and a couple hundred dollars, so she smiled broadly, but not too broadly. She wouldn’t want people to think she looked toothy.
It was a glorious day for her daughter’s wedding. She couldn’t have asked for better if she’d put the request in herself: blue sky, puffy clouds, sunshine, not a hint of the wind that is so likely in this part of the country. And inside the church all the right people were sitting in all the right places: the mayor and his wife prominently placed near the front; two members of the city council and their wives, as well as the most important businessman in the city were a little farther back; close enough to the front that everyone would see them, but not so close that it would look like she’d sat them there on purpose, which of course she had.
Her critical eye didn’t miss the fact that the flower arrangement on the left of the altar was at least two inches taller than the one of the right. She would really have to talk to that florist next week.
As the usher released his arm and motioned her to sit in the pew in front, all eyes went back to see the other mother walking on the groom’s arm. Her curly, henna-dyed hair cascaded behind her like a flaming waterfall, made a brighter shade of red next to the lavender-colored caftan billowing around her ample hips and brushing the floor.
Michael’s mother smiled and waved to people in the pews, even stopping to plant a kiss on top of a friend’s head as she moved past. She was swaying a little to the music and Michael found himself needing to watch his footing, so as not to step on one of her flip-flops and cause her to trip. Now that would be embarrassing.
“Weren’t the flowers Janie chose simply perfect?” She thought as she looked around the sanctuary. The floral smell brought back memories of her own wedding day so many years before. It had been a smaller crowd—herself, her groom, the preacher and two witnesses—and the setting had been a lakeside gazebo in the first light of morning, but weddings always had a similar feel to them no matter where they were held, didn’t they?
Reaching the front pew, her son removed his arm and leaned down to kiss her. Cupping his face in her hands, she whispered “Be happy, my darling” and released her son to his future.
Standing in front of the altar, Michael looked to see his bride waiting at the back of the church. She was brilliant and beautiful, a star visible in the daylight. Was it possible that in a few moments, their lives would be entwined, taking each one’s unique experiences and dreams to blaze a combined path for the rest of their journey? As he glanced over at his “other women”, he smiled, reflecting affectionately about the peculiar stones on which that path would be established.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
|
|
|
