I love weddings!
A lot of you know this. If you didn't know it before, you do now.
I live in a small town.
I love small towns, too.
But I'm near a city, and I was raised there, and in a city there used to be close-knit neighborhoods.
Places where folks watched out for one another.
They were like a "small town", tucked into a city.
|I skated on this pond during the winters of my youth. So not long ago, right??? :)|
My church family is like these small towns.
So many nice people, looking out for one another. Kind. Warm. Loving.
And a bunch of us raised our kids together, so when wedding times roll around?
We pitch in to help each other.
Cooking. Baking. Organizing. Cleaning. Serving. Cleaning again!
I love this stuff!!!
I helped with one of the prettiest weddings ever this summer. It was a "Vintage Wedding".
Amazing decorations, hung and placed in an old carriage house.
First: I WANT TO LIVE IN THIS CARRIAGE HOUSE.
Yes. It is that historically correct and gorgeous. I would write in the top window cupola/turret and see everything from Lake Ontario to the north to the village church steeples due south.
I would love that THIS MUCH.
I was helping oversee this beautiful reception with two girl peeps, Mandy and Sherrie.
Love them to death!
I got introduced to an aging couple, the groom's grandparents. Sweet. Smart. Eager to talk to me because I owned Blackie the Rooster...
And that's a whole other story, LOL!
And they thought it was cool that I was an author, too.
Such nice people. Just lovely.
The woman wore a pink chemo hat.
A cancer patient.
She was slight. A little stooped. Kind of frail. But tough in voice and stature for a little person.
She asked about my books and told me she'd always wanted to be a writer.
I hear that often, and usually I urge the person to jump on board.
Just do it!
But she explained that she missed her time and knew that now.
She regretted missing her time, but loved her memories of helping raise grandchildren.
Her words made me happy and a little sad. Choices are hard in this world. We talked for a long time, Grandma, Grandpa and me. Grandpa shared stories of his youth and wondered if I could use them in a book.
And his story was strong enough that I just might.
Mandy and Sherrie had everything under control, so I chatted, easy, enjoying this time.
A few weeks ago I got a call from a friend, the mother of the bride.
|Do you see the hanging canning jars? Each one had a tiny, battery-operated twinkle light inside.|
Antique stoves and furniture.
The old fridge, stocked with carrot cake and watermelon. Which do you think I ate, LOL???
Grandma was sick. In hospice. Dying.
Family issues had made people angry. Upset.
But two granddaughters ignored the "no visitors" rule and drove in to see Grandma.
She was happy to see them.
She was lonely. As they talked, the girls wondered if they could do anything to help?
Then she told them yes. Yes they could.
Because you see, she was reading a book when she got so sick. And she can't read anymore,
but she'd like to finish the book because it was that special.
She met the author, you see.
At a wedding.
And the author took time to talk to her about life, about writing.
And she really, really wants to see how the story comes out before she dies.
The girls drove home...
Got the book.
Brought it back to the hospital room.
And they read to Grandma until they finished the book.
Writers get nominated for awards all the time.
They go to gala banquets...
Get plaques in the mail...
Their names get posted on websites.
They make bestseller lists.
But none of that compares with this dying old woman's wish to finish the book...
because the author took time to talk to her at a wedding.
God bless you, Grandma/Nana.
And if heaven's got a library, you cozy up a seat next to my mama.
You can read together.