by Tamu Browne

Created on: April 16, 2009   Last Updated: June 03, 2011

Confessions of a bridesmaid.

I looked at the save the date and felt a thrill, I noted the cute hallmark embossed cards tucked inside, they read "will you be my flower girl", and "will you honor me and be my bridesmaid?" An alluring invitation each, for my daughter and myself. Ooh and a tropical destination wedding (I had to get bath suit ready).Now I was even more excited, I stared glassy eyed, dreaming of decadence and the perfume of flowers and cathedral length veils, a fairytale affair that now I would be a part of. I confess I was entranced.

I chatted happily on the phone with the bride-to-be for hours (my husband insisted it was decades), about cloth swatches, chair covers and every imaginable wedding and reception detail. I confess that I fancied myself quite the expert, despite the fact that I exchanged my vows in a civil ceremony. Nevertheless, I referred to myself as the wedding co-coordinator extraordinaire.

As the nuptials draw closer, I hunt online for fares to the tropical wedding destination. Hmm, I realize it is pricey to travel to paradise, my gusto does not wane however, I am positive that I can find a steal of a deal. I mean it is well known among my circle of friends that I am the ultimate bargain hunter, just last week I scored a fifty eight dollar pair of designer jeans for a mere $19.99! I am optimistic.

My eyes are red; I feel the exasperation creeping into my fingertips as I pound the keys of my laptop. Paradise is pricey. I reluctantly enter my credit card information. I confess my excitement begins to peter out as I squint at the nine hundred dollar total oh no! It does NOT include taxes or airport fees!

Well we are finally here, it is beautiful, a tad hot though, but that is surely better than the below zero temperature we left behind. It is all so beautiful, palm trees swaying, people smiling, just as I imagined it would be. That night at the rehearsal dinner overlooking the Caribbean Sea, I sigh, its just all so lovely, stars fill my eyes again as I look up at the onyx sky. This time the stars are real, no skyscrapers obstructing my view here. In the distance I hear an annoying sound, disturbing my reverie it's my daughter, she is whining, "I am hot" she wails, "and bugs are biting me," her sobbing is reaching a crescendo. I search frantically in my bag, I dig through, lotion, a change of clothes for my flower girl to be, sunscreen, snacks but alas no bug spray. I confess the soundtrack of my dream did not include wailing, high pitched sounds.

The day has arrived, I have spent all night putting ointment on bug bites only my daughter can see and answering my daughter's million questions about this very day. While she slept fitfully I searched for our accessories and laid out our clothes for the big day. I confess, I am a bit grumpy and tired. Our transportation arrives, my daughter bounces into the limo as if it were a trampoline, I swear she rumples every inch of her dress. Is it hot in here or is it just me? I confess I am stressed.

We arrive. My friend the bride is a vision, cathedral length veil and all. I step out of the limo, I feel a bit like a celebrity, all eyes are on us. I note that my daughter fits right in with the other slightly crumpled flower girls. I confess, I am happy and overcome with joy for my soon to be wed friend. I confess, I forget the ticket sticker shock, I forget the wailing and the heat. I confess as I walk up the aisle I make a mental note, I too want a destination wedding, another mental note I am already married, but I can renew my vows. I confess I dream of decadence and the perfume of flowers and cathedral length veils, a fairytale affair that now would be mine. I confess I am again entranced.

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