Let me tell you about my first wedding: the photographer was a complete no-show. I asked the guests to send me copies of the photos they were taking and I built a nice wedding album out of what they did for love.
But wait, there was more, lots more. The wedding was held in my parents’ back yard, and one week before the event we woke up to find the County was digging up the street to a depth of 3 feet. My mother never got the message, if indeed there had been notification at all. Just — 3 feet deep. The workmen promised ramps at the end of each workday, but it made proposed delivery of the rental chairs, flowers, and food a bit iffy.
The dog ran away, and when my younger sis and I finally found him he had some extremely vicious stickers stuck all over his belly that took a lot of time to cut away.
Oh yes, the back yard. My sister and I were raised with the knowledge that there were no fairy princesses here. It was nice though, with the fruit trees and flowers, and the people who knew us and wished us well. The chairs did come in time, which was a really good thing given that the groom turned pale about the time he said “I Do” and Mom was able to shove a chair under him just as his knees gave way.
The guitarist was a friend of a friend of my Dad’s .... we were told he was having some trouble with alcohol and might be a no-show. Gaah. He showed up, played some classical music, and was in every way a gentleman.
What else. Because there was definitely more, oh my god, but it’s been 50 years.
Let me tell you about my second wedding, 33 years ago. The weather was clear, it was October, and suddenly the temperature was 103 degrees. The cake started to melt. And so it went. We are still married.
For better or for worse.
So, to the two brides: I lift a virtual toast 
and send my love as I do to all couples on their weddings 
The people who love you were there. 
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