A picture tells a story. A picture is worth 1000 words… or WHATever all those quotes say. A good photojournalist takes a bunch of pictures of a wedding day to tell a story of the day, the couple, the families… But it’s easy to omit some of that story because it just doesn’t really fit into the calm, pretty story of the day that we want to tell. Take this picture, for example: Me, my parents, random pieces of chiffon that are not supposed to be affixed to a lattice thing… you can’t hear me barking orders or cursing when I dropped pins or stuck myself.
photo credit to Noah Wolf… my butt in ill fitting trousers, circa May 2009.
When people ask me “What was the craziest thing that EVER happened at a wedding?” I always site the madness that happened surrounding their ceremony! Rebecca and Harrison’s traditional Jewish ceremony required they be married under a Chuppah. On the way to dropping the supplies off at the Harriett Rose Gardens, one of the very important structure creating poles of the Chuppah bounced OUT of the back of the groom’s truck and was nowhere to be found. I got the frantic phone call at 10am. Sunday. Of Memorial Weekend. It was a mad dash to call anyone and every possible rental company I could think of. Most were closed and only had emergency numbers and the ones that answered took the time to go to the warehouse only to find they were OUT of Chuppahs. COME ON! Finally, I was able to get in touch with Apres Party Rentals and they SAVED THE DAY by leaving his boat outing on Prior Lake to bring us a lattice structure to construct along with the chiffon material meant for much different poles. As I wasn’t expecting to need help because the reception room had been set the night before/the morning off, I had to call in the trusty backups… My parents.
The picture below is the chokehold of happiness Rebecca put me in when she first got to the park to see the Chuppah put together…
After that was built and we prepared for the start of the ceremony, about 8 minutes (yes, I checked) before the ceremony, Harrison realized he had left the glass behind for the breaking of that glass at the end of the ceremony. My trusty 5’1″ (I say 5’0″ – I think her hair adds that extra inch) emergency Chuppah building sidekick/Mother FLEW into Uptown where my mother tore out of the truck with 1″ tall hair flapping like wings from the sides of her face in the wind and into Figlios (may it rest in peace) to have the oh-so-kind people give us a glass and napkin and wish us well in our wedding endeavors. If there is anything I wish I ever had a picture of, it would be my tiny little mother flying out of the SUV before I had even come to a complete stop… arms and legs going like a cartoon as she flung herself out and ran towards Figlios’ front doors. Oh good Lord I die laughing just remembering it.
These pictures will remain a couple of my favorites of all time… Nothing can totally capture the insanity of that morning/afternoon, but these pictures capture those three particular moments:
– a single act from the multitudes shown to me in my life of how I know my parents love me andwill do anything for me
– knowing that the couple/the bride/ the groom/ the families are happy (and it’s a word much that encases so much more than just ‘happy’) is what gives meaning and worth to the entire reason I sweat and run and bruise myself to get things done for them. it’s a sick and over the top version of customer service, but it’s their wedding day.
– when you think you’re being kicked when you’re down, learn to just kick back and just figure it out.