What a weekend right?
Friday morning I went to Stuart Frazier Salon (ask for Heidi) to be with Lucy The Bride as she sat in the chair and had her heaping hair gingerly pinned into a gorgeous side bun (I guess you'd call it). She was so nervous and was sporting the green jacket she stole from me when she came home from England. It's become her new blankie. Doesn't everyone have their own version of the green jacket/pink skirt emotional clothes?
After her hair was sprayed more than a flickillion times, we went to the parent's to get everyone ready. I was upstairs fielding questions from The Councilwoman "Do I wear this brooch or this bracelet?" while Lucy demanded answers "Which earrings do I wear in the temple?" and all of this while holding little Nicholas Nickelby the baby that likes to be patted on the back. Then there was Dad's tie in question, I said "Definitely the orange one!" but Dad said it wasn't "wedding enough" so he went with a subtly striped blue number.
Finally Lucy was ready to go, all bride-ish in her red-woven double breasted suit. She looked so dang cute! I thought I might die of the darlingness. Mom stuffed the puffy wedding gown skirt inside a large plastic bag and Dad grunted as he pulled Lucy's over-grown honeymoon suitcase down the stairs and out the door. Stephanie followed, a big pokey-out ponytail on top of her head, taking pictures with her Rebel. I sang some cheesy wedding songs and Lucy marched out to the car. It was the last few moments of her singlehood, there with her sisters, being goofy and trying to chase the nerves away with the blowing leaves. (Oh! The wax and the poetry of that final sentence! Pulling this stuff out of nowhere, it's like magic!)
"See you at the temple!" we waved them on as the Lexus drove out of sight.
Steph and I scrambled. She had to ready herself, her husband and FOUR children in less than an hour. I had to run to Topher's house for a quick run-through of the wedding song I was to botch at the wedding dinner later that night. Hurry! Hurry! Chup came and picked me up, he was hungry and NO TIME TO EAT!
Not long after I had curled my hair did I realize that my temple recommend was not tucked away in the folds of my ex-missionary proselytizing bag where it is normally, on any given temple going day. I stayed calm and looked around the house twenty or so times. Then I lost it! Visions of me outside the temple playing tag with the nieces and nephews while my sister was sealed for time and all eternity filled my brain matter. It was then, that the second counselor in my bishopric (otherwise known as Jake Roi) was getting his teeth cleaned (like any wise counselor is want to do) and heard his phone ring. It was me. He called the temple recorder, told them of my plight and got me a backstage pass to the temple. Boy was I grateful. And told him so no less than 75 times.
After that it was smooth skiing. The sealing was perfect. After the temple S Hod was there taking pictures and did very well with my less-than-complying-photograph-taking brothers. I got some grief for my dress, an American Kimono, if you will, from family members who said things like "so and so called and wanted their dress back" which is a joke that is as old and over-done as Pampered Chef parties and maybe even more so.
The dinner was held at The Memorial House at Memory Park. When we arrived, the hall had been decorated with greenery, white lights, tea candles, green gourds and white flowers. It was so romantic, we turned on some Madeline Peyroux and started to dance. When dinner was served we all went crazy over a turkey dinner, with a buffet of salads, tomatoes with mozzarella and fresh fruit. And seconds. And thirds. We all had delicious cupcakes (no wedding cake) with vanilla frosting topped with a marzipanned B (for the bride and groom's last name).
My family has a tradition of giving tributes to our brother/sister at wedding dinners. We start from the oldest and go down.
*My oldest brother Steve started his tribute like this, "I am the oldest of nine children, when I heard that Lucy was getting married I said 'Who the heck is Lucy?' ".
*Matt wrote his traditional funny and off-beat poems.
*Page had each of her children present Lucy with nine glass stars to represent Lucy's ninth position in the family.
*Christopher talked about how Lucy was bossy with her friends when she was young and made them run for treats and gave her a bag of cookies.
*Andrew reminded us of Lucy’s "radar ears" and her uncanny ability to hear gossip from miles away.
*I sang Celine Dion/Barbra Streisand’s "Tell Him" which is the worst song of America even though it was actually written in England. We only had a small synth of which to accompany and poor Topher was playing as hard as he could, regrettably though, I couldn't hear it and tragedy ensued. At one point my father stood up, made the all-knowing slice of the throat sign and yelled my name (later apologized). At that point, I wanted to cry but carried on until the end, when at last I sang "Never let him go..." It is still very embarrassing to talk about, I might need trauma counseling.
*Jesse gave Lucy a "Saved By The Bell" quiz.
*And Stephanie presented Lucy and Ric with a family tradition starter kit that included our favorite Halloween dvds. It was very clever.
When all was said and sung. Lucy and Ric ran out the door, threw the bouquet and left for their honeymoon. Chup and I stayed after to wrap up his sound equipment and apologize to lingering guests for the condition of their now-sore eardrums thanks to the high-note I attempted but didn't reach.
It was a lovely evening.
The next day was the BYU Homecoming parade, the pre-game tailgate party and game. The parade is rockin' because various BYU groups (and sometimes made-up clubs such as the "Club-style" dancing club) walk down the street and huck (Utah word meaning To Throw Disgracefully) candy at you and the little ones. When the candy is hurled it's as though you are watching a chicken coop, except with children. (See Above: Owen with Boots and Loot) They get more treats from that parade than they ever will going door-to-door on Halloween night. And they don't have to wear the costume that their mom could only afford.
I was honored to have a seat at the game with Andrew, Jesse, Christian and my dad. Jesse tells it like this "When you walk to Cougar Stadium it's like you are walking through the shadow of death. Then, once inside the stadium you realize you have made it to heaven." Heaven is even better when you beat UNLV 52-7.
When I got home that evening I fell on in a heap of bones and blood on my couch.
"Listen Chup!" I warned. "No more fun. I can't take it anymore. I am done with fun for awhile."
"Just one more thing." he said, "I need El Azteca and I want to buy you a burrito."
"Ok." I said calmly because I can never turn down a burrito. "But after that, NO MORE!"
It's a good thing weekends like these only come around everyone once in awhile, because any more and I would be sent to an early grave.
And that is no Halloween joke.