The Bride Wore Blue, Unexpected Guests Wore Black
The fall day dawned bright and beautiful, a good day for a wedding. This was the second marriage for both Denver, my husband-to-be, and me -- not our first excursion to the land of matrimony. Rather than wear a white wedding gown and veil as I had in 1967 during my first trip down the aisle, this time I figured that a more mature bride should select a suit or dress accessorized with a strand of pearls. A local department store yielded a nice royal blue dress suitable for the day's special event. Denver wore a conservative gray suit, white dress shirt and paisley tie. Since the old saying "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" holds true, I can say that I thought my groom looked so tall and handsome! We both wore big grins -- it was definitely a happy day!
Our plans were to have the Probate Judge preside over the brief ceremony in his chambers, invite only close family members to witness our exchange of vows, then leave the courthouse as happy newlyweds. A simple no-fuss way to begin the rest of our quiet lives together, in our minds. This first part went according to plan. Six of my girlfriends had different ideas about the afternoon. And I have the polar opposite, but marvelous, videotape to prove it!
After promising to love and cherish each other, being pronounced husband and wife, sealing the promises with a kiss, my husband and I walked hand in hand down the hallway and out the door into the bright autumn sunshine to an unexpected sight. There, lining the building's steps, were six of my closest friends all dressed in black outfits and black hats purchased from Goodwill, carrying bouquets of wilted and dead flowers, weeping and wailing loudly, very loudly, "Don't go, please don't leave us!" Wringing hands and handkerchiefs, they were quite a spectacle! People entering the county building were staring and warily moving away from what they were witnessing. After the initial shock of seeing these grown women looking and acting like this, my husband and I began to laugh and laugh, but the friends continued to play the part, to wipe away big 'crocodile' tears while tossing dead flowers and birdseed in our path. In reality, they were happy for us, but they couldn't let my mid-life adventure begin on a quiet note. They did not want me to move one hundred miles away, so dressing in black and mimicking mourners, was their way to protest!
That was fourteen years ago. Smiles and chuckles surround the memory of that October day when I wore blue, six middle-aged women wore black, and loud "Boo-Hoo-Hoos" rang out in mock distress on the courthouse steps of LaGrange, Georgia.