I Do

When Anouk found out that her mother would be wearing red at the wedding (as was she) and that so was the "official" maid of honor, she began a mini campaign to have me wear that color, too. We weren't going to tell Do any of this, just surprise her. Do, who as we know, went into shock the minute Christophe proposed to her. Actually, we all did. Forty-eight years as a single woman, finally deciding to tie the knot for the first time, with someone she's only known for six months (two, pre-engagement,) was a bit of a whirlwind for everyone. Dominique spent the following four months leading up to this day in a semi-functioning zombie state that her new French family amusingly thought was very "zen." (We knew better.) And so it was that we showed up on a rainy Saturday in the beautiful French countryside to celebrate, boldly. We wouldn't have missed this for the world.
The best part of the ceremony, other than the moments where they both said their "I dos," was when Christophe put the ring on Dominique's hand and it would not slip on! We all chuckled nervously and then with mounting panic watching Christophe, who had that finger in a death grip trying to get the ring on. I was ready to hurl a spit-ball at Dominique's finger to help lubricate the action. Thank god sheer force prevailed (because I'm really not that good a shot).
It did rain that day, but never for the important parts like walking in and out of the ceremony, reception and visits to the porto-potty.
I ended up writing the speech that morning. I composed it in English until I realized, late in the game, that my audience wasn't going to understand a word of it, so I grabbed the best man while we were all taking wedding pictures and had him help me translate it into grammatically correct French. (Although I do speak it fluently, I hadn't written more than a French sentence or two since high school.)
Standing before everyone, I managed to give the audience a peak at Do's personality and tidbits about some of her more outrageous exploits, without embarrassing her (or her husband). I did manage to make her laugh and cry. So I have to say that it went over quite well.
I was sad to say goodbye the following day. I was also exhausted. We had shown up at the farm at 2PM, the prior day, and had left the wedding at 3AM, the following, only to be back at there for brunch at noon with our bags packed and checked out of the hotel. A week as a single woman had my head wanting to explode. I was so delirious that I actually started fantasizing about making school lunches and driving carpool. Proof that I must have been hallucinating.

Boy, do the French know how to throw a good party, or what.

Is-almost home