I got my Baptist minister and we compromised and set the date for the 13th instead. I wanted to be a June bride. My mama was a June bride, Larry's mama was a June bride. Ginger wanted to be a June bride. Larry didn't want to wait. I think he was afraid I'd change my mind, even though we'd already been together for eleven years. Silly boy. No way was I changing my mind. I'd never been more sure of anything in my life. Or since.
Like any wedding, though, ours was not without angst and drama. Two days before the wedding, a lady in the church passed away. Guess when her funeral was scheduled? Yep. Saturday. The 13th. Bless her heart. The preacher scrambled to find us somebody on such short notice and he did, another God-fearing Baptist minister that I was comfortable with.
And so we got hitched!
My parents hosted a reception at their home and Larry's parents joined us. Everybody was there except for my groom. :( Here are a few pictures I dug up from that wonderful afternoon.
The only good picture I have of my wedding cake.
Of course, this was before digital photography and Brian and Ami becoming professionals. Lesson learned, never take a picture of a white wedding cake sitting on a white tablecloth. :) It was a beautiful cake. My mama made it and underneath that yummy white frosting was her world-famous pound cake.
This little mess right here stuck to my coattail all afternoon.
It's still so hard for me to believe that she's 20 now and about to be a mama.
And here's our baby, then 4-year-old Christopher, looking on as I opened my presents. I feel every year of these past 13 except when I look at this picture. Chris is still supposed to look like that.
The most precious of all the pictures taken that day. To me anyway. My sweet Maw and my third grandma, Mildred, sitting side by side on the loveseat. If I live to be a hundred, I wouldn't take a thing for this picture.