Perhaps, but most often, it begins on that first wedding. The first one they attend, the first one they're a part of. That's where it all began for me anyways, the first wedding I remember.
As a Preacher's kid, my father was constantly being called on to perform weddings. Many times I'd be requested to be the Bible girl. I have very sketchy memories of walking down the aisle balancing a Bible in my hands, a cheeky grin, and walking down the carpeted aisles. I couldn't trip. I knew better than that. The wedding, however, that by far sticks out in my mind, is my Uncle's wedding. I was five at the time, and I was to be the Bible girl. I remember the dress, my shoes, I remember almost everything.
I remember my five year old little brain whirling in awe at the reception table display, I remember my infatuation with the peach color scheme. I remember waking up on the big day and being so excited I wanted to leave for the wedding right away. I was in love with everything. All the girlyness (which lasted until the boys organized a game of tag outside in the dark, after the reception. (New record, my girlyness lasted that long.)
But what I most vividly remember is the strange thought that had cemented itself in my mind. Strange because I was five. Without question, I accepted it as a cold hard fact, that I wanted my wedding, exactly like theirs. I decided on the spot, I wanted peach colored decor, I wanted a sunset wedding, and a dress, exactly like my aunt's. Exactly. I wanted the sleeves to go down to my fingers, I wanted the lace, I wanted the transparency. I wanted that dress. It was settled. It wasn't as if I was planning a wedding, it just became part of me. Part of my "wedding" folder in my brain's memory. I didn't question why that files existed, nor do I remember forming it. (Can you tell I spend too much time on the computer?) Anyways, I never thought of it again.
|My Uncle and Aunt in their wedding, 1999.|
That is, except once.
Years later, I was in the library in Toronto, flipping through a few biographies I had to check out for a book report. I had raided the British Royal's section, and was holding in my hands several copies of Princess Di's biographies, and one of Grace Kelly. I wasn't so very interested in what the books had to say, (I have a short attention span when it comes to biographies), I was interested in the photographs. I plopped down in the corner of the aisle, and flipped through the pages from one photograph to the other. I arrived at Grace Kelly's wedding. Specifically a photo of her wedding dress.
And that my friends, was when I died, resurrected, bought a five cent copy of "The Royals" magazine at a garage sale, and became infatuated with lace wedding dresses. It was fully decided. Another photo was added to the "wedding" folder in my mind. And there it was allowed to gather dust .. until ..
The wedding dress folder has ample inspiration for me to draw from, the color scheme is decided, as is the preacher. Of course. Everything's ready.
The groom you ask? Oh ..
Oh, that's sort of important isn't it? Oh my. .. We'll have to work on that one.
P.S. As a little girl, did you have big ideas about that day too? Or did it never even cross your mind?