But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.
Here are just a few images from the big event of the weekend that I’d like to share. There was a professional photographer but these are pictures that either I took or are the images captured by family and friends. There are sweet moments, as well as moments of humor—yet some of the more humorous moments were unfortunately not captured on film.
You know the type of moments. . . those spontaneous life events which make for the stuff of family legends–the ones that often grow exponentially with the passage of time—those stories that can only happen when a group, such as the one we witnessed, gathers together—-such as:
those who rallied together at a local pub for the viewing of the Belmont race. When one’s aunt ventures up to strangers hoping to “get in on a piece of the action” by offering cash to an infamous looking bucket. . .
—or the near fiery incident of the lit cigarette a cousin dropped down into the unreachable black hole between the seat and console of her mother’s very nice and very expensive luxury car–with the only imagined option of recourse for extinguishing the near disaster. . . douse it by pouring a diet coke down between the seats.
—Or of the 88 year old aunt who unfortunately discovered, during the midsts of the Rehearsal Dinner, that her earlier consumption of dirty martinis and fried oysters simply do not mix–sending her in a quick search of a terrace bush as she was ushered back to her hotel room by her resigned children.
—or of the hired rickshaw driver who peddled Dad and my step mom the 4 blocks to the Dinner.. .
So many stories, all of which now make for the stuff of legends with a family clan.
As so many different people gather together, both young and old, with a single purpose in mind, which in our case was the celebration of the uniting of two young people, memories are immediately formed— which begin the building of a new legacy for a newly formed couple who are now beginning the stories of their own new “lifetime” together. . .
Then, there was the big day! 120 dearly beloved individuals gathered in a beautiful southern setting stepped in history and charm.
The story of our journey, as with any family, is long and convoluted. Our small family of three has come a very long way in order to have gotten to this particular day. After Brenton was born, we did everything together as a family—taking him with us everywhere. As his dad was often gone long hours due to work, and with us having lived in the middle of nowhere for much of his childhood, with long rides spent in the car traveling to school, church, shopping, etc—a tight bond was truly formed.
However on this particular Saturday in June, a close knit team of 3, was soon to become a newly formed team of 4. . .
. . .As a beautiful girl awaited her special moment. . .
A mother and father make the joyous journey down an oak lined aisle
(and may I just say that humidity and soft water do not make for “good hair”!!! Oh it “works” and looks fine here back home, but nooooo, not in hot and humid Savannah. It simply wore as a disaster on one’s head!)
A jubilant couple turns to take the retreat back up the aisle as a newly united force. . .
And of course there were my peeps (aka cousins, dad, step-mom and aunt)
and then there was my partner in crime –aka aunt Martha–the one sans the kidney—remember that crisis??
Newlyweds drive off in a carriage—of course they do— who doesn’t want to drive off into the sunset in a horse drawn carriage in one of the most historic and picturesque cities in this country?! By this point in the day, I had to have a pedicab fetch me, once it was all said and done–Do you have any idea what heels do to feet that have grown accustomed to going either bare foot or merely adorned with Chacos? Not a pretty site. And lets not talk about the pedicab ripping the back end of my very nice dress shall we—ugh
And when all was finally said and done—all that remained was me, the Prime Minister (aka Winston), and a Chair—more on the chair later, and the bill of a lifetime. . .
Oh, and now there is a week spent with “The Mouse”