The perfect day
The bride wore a black sundress and a bow in her hair; the groom wore a sage-green jacket that coordinated perfectly with the emerald-green jacket worn by the mother of the groom. That color coordination was a happy coincidence – just one small piece of all the happiness that filled the wedding day of my son and his bride.
It was about a month ago when he called me from his home in Lexington, Kentucky.
“What are you doing on Halloween, Momma?” (That’s how he’s always spelled it in the letters he’s written to me.)
“The usual, I guess,” I said. “You know, sitting here with my bowl of KitKats, wondering if any kids will be ringing the doorbell.”
“Wanna come to our wedding?”
They would be married on Halloween, in a small and private civil ceremony. Immediate family would be making the trip to Kentucky. After expressing my glee, I wondered about the timing. Was there enough time to plan? What could I do to help? And would this be a Halloween-themed wedding, or just a wedding on Halloween?
“We’re still figuring it out,” he said.
And with that I began my month of MOG fretting. It’s been said that the mother of the groom should “wear beige and keep her mouth shut.” But this wasn’t that kind of wedding, nor that kind of family.
My son was marrying a lovely and energetic young woman from a large, warm family. That she and my son found each other was kismet: they love fishing and camping, and animals. She’s a veterinary tech who’s been known to bring home needy or unwanted critters. Their home holds a menagerie, including a tarantula, frogs and a lizard or two. They adopted their dog, Eland, after he was found abandoned along the road. He was a total gentleman for the photos.
So, what exactly does the MOG wear to a Halloween wedding? The weeks before the wedding were filled with jokes about Catwoman suits and pointy hats. More than one friend suggested I wear a pumpkin-orange dress.
“Anything’s fine,” the bride told me when I asked.
Reality shows about weddings feature “bridezillas” who must control every aspect of their perfect day. This was no bridezilla, and her wedding was not about the venue, the dress or the perfect flowers; it was about the couple and their commitment to each other.
More couples are choosing low-key, intimate weddings that eschew the expense and stress of large events. As I watched my son and his new bride facing each other as they said their vows, I did not miss the extravagant flowers or the chamber music, nor the expensive gown. Everything that was needed in that moment was right there. She was smiling, he was blushing. It was quiet and sweet.
That evening we gathered at a very nice restaurant to celebrate, just the newlyweds and about 10 of us. We all toasted the couple and told stories. And then the waitress brought out the cake.
The MOG would provide the wedding cake, but what kind? After weeks of pondering, I knew. A round, two-layer coconut cake (my son’s favorite) adorned with pumpkins and some spider webs, and the words “Happy Hallowedding!”
At the end of the evening, my son walked me outside to wait for my car. As the valet handed me the keys, I went to pay him.
“I’ll get this,” my son said, going for his wallet.
“So happy for you two,” I said. “It was the perfect day.”
“I think so, too, Momma,” he said. “Just the way we wanted it.”