On Friday evening, June 26th, Barry and I attended the wedding of a daughter of our cherished friends, Dave and Ellen.

We go way back.

I first met the bride, Jessica, when she was… oh, maybe 2 or so.  Ellen was calmly getting Jessica and her twin brother, *Paul, ready for swimming lessons at our local YMCA while their older sister, Alicia, sat so beautifully and read books on the ladies’ room bench.  I was not-so-calmly getting Audrey ready for the same class.  I remember, so vividly, Ellen’s serenity in comparison to my franticity (is this a word?).

(*I reminded Paul at his sister’s wedding that I once saw him naked… and his immediate response, in front of many guests, was, “Oh, that’s right, Sharon.  Last week.”  You got me, Paul!).

Our family paths would cross even more-so as Jessica and Audrey became teammates on the Barrington Printing Minor League Softball Team, where Dave was the coach and Barry the co-coach.  By then, the girls were about 7 or 8 years old.  I don’t think I have ever had more fun in my life than I did at those many, many nights of softball games… me with my opinions and ideas, suggestions and game strategies, and Dave with his, “Hey, Barry, reign in your wife, will ya?!”

And it got even better.  By then, Dave and Ellen had another daughter, Tara, and we had Jane.  Tara and Jane would go on to play softball, too… with Dave and Barry as their coaches.  Me… same opinions, ideas, suggestions, strategies.  Dave… same calm, fun, generous, loving man and dad and coach.

Dave and Barry also have a professional relationship, and this means that I see Dave often.  I have for years.  And Dave never lets us forget that the score is 9 to 0.  In grandchildren, that is.  According to Dave, Jessica and her husband, Jason, had better change that score!

I heard from Dave wonderful details of Jessica’s wedding to her fiance, Jason, as the plans rolled along.  Love, excitement, wonder, happiness and joy was in the air.  Then, just 6 weeks before the wedding, Ellen was rushed to surgery.  Open heart surgery.  An 11-hour surgery, where Ellen’s very life hung in balance.  It was like silence in the world.  Moment to moment.  Hour to hour.  Then day to day.

Ellen fought valiantly.

On Friday evening, at her daughter’s wedding, Ellen… escorted by her son Paul… walked that glorious walk down the center aisle of the outdoor ceremony.

I have cried at weddings before.  At seeing the bride.  Her dad.  Or a very special escort.  But I have never cried at watching the mother-of-the-bride… until on this glorious day.  The joy was so great, so strong, so powerful, so blessed that the dark, ominous rainclouds parted in the sky and rays of light shone through.  This is the truth.  And as the beautiful bride, Jessica, and her dad came into view… well, there was joy to the sky and beyond.  And I know there was divine intervention because immediately after the outdoor ceremony, lightning ripped across the sky and a cleansing, good-luck rain sprinkled the ground below our feet.  The party moved inside the elegant Kinney Bungalow at Sunset Farm.

The rest of the night was one to remember.  Glorious sun.  A little more rain.  A magnificent sunset to honor the bride and groom and the farm itself.  And dancing.  Joy.  Happiness.  Warmth.  Wonder.  Blessings.

Time stood still at Jessica and Jason’s wedding.  And all was well with the world.  Everything was exactly as it should be.  A beautiful tapestry of colors and laughter and emotions.  The swirl of life itself.

And I will never forget that one glorious walk.  One gloriously beautiful mom.  One glorious wedding day.