I took countless pictures with my eyes, willed myself to remember without the aid of a pen or camera. These days, these packed and precious days careen past in a blink.
She stepped so earnestly down the aisle, tossing bright red rose petals from her fingers to feet. And then upon arriving at the end with the basket still nearly full, she decided she ought to go over the aisle again, one more time for good measure. She was halfway back and ten more petals in before I could coax her back to her seat beside me.
He marched down with the ornamental pillow in hand, a sheepish smile on his face. I might have told him he looked like a prince, but unless it was Prince Caspian we were talking about, he would have just made a scrunchy face and asked how many pieces of cake he could have. Prince, schmince. All that matters is that he can eat like a king.
At the reception, my husband nearly upstaged Mickey and Minnie when he and his sisters led the crowd in dancing the YMCA. (A special request granted by the DJ. Because for some crazy reason, the bride--also his sister-- hadn't even put that one on the play list. Can you imagine?) But I say "nearly" because really, it's not a party until you've danced with Minnie to ABBA. My children will never be the same. All parties heretofore will surely be referred to as "lame" in comparison.
As we walked back to our hotel that evening, the children still dressed to the nines, tiara and ties in tact, Dani suddenly remembered she hadn't had the chance to finish her mid-morning snack of goldfish. "Mah mah my gooooldfish, I didn't get to eat dem! Oooaaaawwwaaaah...." Dramatic cry, tears streaming, melting down over a dozen goldfish. Overtired, much?
The next day the kids slept in a whopping 30 minutes longer than usual. Because who needs sleep when the long-lost North Carolina cousins are in such close proximity? Three pools plus one pirate ship water slide plus abundant warm sunshine, multiplied by cousins equals a long day of perfection.
They topped it off by sharing a "Sink" of ice cream. I'm going to need Uncle Jerry to share the picture he took just to impart to you the yummy hugeness that was served in a bowl twice as big as Caed's noggin.
When the clock struck 9:00, we made our way back to our hotel via boat. And wouldn't you know it, tears again. But not because of silly goldfish. Because a perfect day was over. Because we had to say goodbye.
Because we know whether we are 7 or 37 just how precious these times are, how quickly they pass, how it is all we can do just to blink it in.