The insanity soon ended, and we headed to our reception – without our minister. It was time to have fun. Amidst the jokes about her, floating around our guests, I admired the beautifully decorated reception hall, when I caught a glimpse of the large wall mirror behind the bridal party’s table that blatantly read “Got R Dun” Gasp! My occasion had become filled with surprises. I managed to laugh off the message and sat down for the wedding toasts, which were beautiful. Pulling myself together, I watched our guests rise from the tables for our meal, and at that moment, I realized that while my new husband’s family were clad in suits and dresses, many of mine were in Harley Davidson T-shirts, jeans, and boots, as if they had stopped in on a motorcycle ride. I told myself that there was no reason for the embarrassment I felt. They were good people no matter how they were dressed. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what my new in laws were thinking.

The reception continued, and we had finally reached a point where all seemed relatively normal again. That is until – you guessed it – the “shady ones” arrived. My aunt and uncle, though uninvited, had caught wind of the celebration and decided to make an appearance, scantily clad with him in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, and his wife in a mini skirt and glittered Playboy tank top. My perfect day had officially hit an all time low. Yet again, my determination to make an enjoyable day persevered, and our guests were having a great time, which somehow overrode all of the bad. Besides, I felt, at that point, that it couldn’t get much worse. I was quickly proven wrong. I was making my rounds when I saw the “shady ones”, who had previously divorced but would soon to be remarried, publicly making out at their table, as if no one else was even in the room. This occurrence was, of course, the new topic of discussion among our guests. I darted for the door for some air. I had to collect my thoughts and, somehow, my pride as well. My dream wedding had become one big joke, and I hung my head in shame.

Just then, my 5 year old son appeared. “Mommy”, he said, “how come you’re the only one not having any fun?” I peered into the hall, where our guests were all dancing and laughing, mingling and talking, and it hit me that he was right. No one seemed to care that we hadn’t had a flawless wedding. They were joyfully gathered in celebration of a new marriage and family, and I had been too overwhelmed with worries to enjoy it with them. I realized then that it didn’t matter what embarrassment had accompanied our wedding day. I had just married the man of my dreams, with all of our loved ones sharing it with us, and it was then that I knew, my wedding had been perfect all along.