***
Last night, during her matron of honor speech, Liz perfectly summed up many people's relationship with Molly, the beautiful bride du jour. That is, one characterized by laughter. And that wonderful belly aching kind.
Whether it was on the street or in Miss Teresa's jazz class; in the middle of an Ellis dance circle or on Mr. Altman's stage; in the Mustang we had to drive home from New York City or on a D.C. Metro; on the Shadyside House Tour, over brunch at Casbah, or at the bar of Soba; like so many others, Molly has filled with my life with laughter. And yesterday, right before the doors opened to reveal her gorgeous dress and her beaming smile, right before she walked down the aisle, I thought back on all the fun we have shared.
As she made her way to the altar, I imagined that some sort of comedy in typical Molly fashion might unfold, but the Mass, celebrated by the Bishop of Pittsburgh was near perfection. And in place of any boisterous guffaws, I saw her wipe away a quiet, errant tear as she was saying her vows. Sure, it was a tear of joy, but there was something else in it - that feeling that every bride gets, incredulous that this is happening; that she has found the love of her life; that this man in front of her loves her so entirely. But perhaps in Molly's case, the nuptial emotion meant a little more; it was knowing that she had not only found someone who she could trust to be her comedic partner, but someone who she could trust with a tear as well.
There is more to say; more stories to share of my first night out as a Mom, rusty dance moves, the seen list, and adventures in our Jeep with my pump, but today is someone else's big day to wear a white dress, and I've got to help her primp.
Lo.
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