Here comes the bride...

And the Cake. And the flowers.

{My cute neighbor Mindy making her sons wedding cake}

{Along with her darling mom who made all the cookies}

{Together they hand decorated over two hundred cookies}

{to hand out as wedding favors for Griffin's reception last Friday night}

I always love to get wedding announcements that come in the mail. Envelopes in cream, white, and ivory, laced with tissue- paper squares, and ribbon embellishments. Sprinkled in are photos of smiling couples, bearing resemblance to those kids I used to babysit or teach in Young Women—now sporting diamond rings.

Weddings and receptions come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. I’ve been to temple weddings, and weddings of people of other faiths. I love the ceremonies and also the celebrations. I’ve been to churches, temples, plantations, bed & breakfasts, cultural halls, reception centers, houses, clubhouses and big white tents. I’ve seen some very interesting color schemes. I have also admired flower arrangements two stories tall, enjoyed the glamor of getting dressed up for black tie, and a taken a turn on a few ballroom dance floors.

My neighbor's son, Griffen was married last Friday to Kelsey. His mom, Mindy said it was a whirlwind, but delightfully marked at every turn with memories. Like assembling and transporting the three-foot-tall cake in my dear friends’ kitchen, and then putting her hand through the top of it while setting it up at the reception. I'm sure ten years from now that will all be forgotten.

My mom met my dad when she was a freshmen at BYU. She was twenty one years old at the time, and he was twenty three - a full two years after returning home from his mission to Canada. They fell for each other pretty hard, but it was almost a year until they got married. (Dated for three months. Engaged for six.)

For the first ten years of their marriage, she never even noticed he wasn’t perfect. The next ten years were spent resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t perfect. The following ten taught her to accept the fact that he wasn’t perfect. (Not sure what she learned with the other ten years that followed that!) And today (their wedding anniversary and eight years into the next ten), she appreciates the fact that he isn’t perfect.

So. They’ve come full circle. Except that this time the “not noticing he isn’t perfect” comes with knowledge and appreciation. She see his imperfections, and she likes them. They are familiar, endearing, and they balance out her own. She needs that. They bring one another from either extreme toward the center, and both come closer to getting it right.

As people, they are still imperfect as can be, but their choice to be together (forever) is not. And that is perfect.

So...tell me about your wedding. Did you love it or hate it?