There is going to be a wedding in our family in March. We are thrilled and terrified.
Thrilled because our older son has stepped up and asked his sweet little girlfriend to marry him, and terrified because this happy event is going to take place at our house.
Matthan met Kristen a couple of years ago. I knew she was going to be a keeper when she volunteered to babysit his rather adventurous cat, the fact that she had purple hair, and not just purple, purple ombre was another sure sign that she was his match. From the beginning of their relationship, we knew our son was growing up. He started caring for another person more than he cared for himself.
Her job took her to downtown Atlanta. He obsessed so much about her safety as she walked to her car each day until he just started picking her up. Our son was smitten. Suddenly this boy who couldn’t keep a potted plant alive showed a kind of maturity that might just protect and provide for a family.
We loved her immediately, too. She stepped in and loved on the little sisters, braided hair, helped with dishes, complimented my cooking and told me thank you for every meal regardless of how humble it was. I already mentioned her purple hair. She brought out the best in all of us and it was clear she thought our boy was the best thing since chocolate cake.
She reminded me a bit of the girl I used to be. When I went to meet my fiance’s family and was welcomed in by a mother, father, sisters and brothers. They were my family from the beginning, and even though I “took” their baby, they never seemed to view it as taking away from them, they made me feel like I added to them, they had no idea just how many I would be partly responsible for adding but it didn’t seem to matter. They loved me and I needed that.
Matthan told us last summer that he wanted to give Kristen Nana’s ring and ask her to be his bride, but it wasn’t until the middle of January that he actually popped the question.
It was a miracle, with five sisters and a talkative mother that we were able to keep it a secret. We deserve medals, or at the very least some ice cream for pulling that off.
A date has been set for early spring. Attendants have been confirmed, colors chosen, cake baker booked, florist … Well, that will be me. The venue is what has us terrified.
The happy couple want to tie the knot in our yard. We are not master gardeners by any stretch of the imagination. Our carport is the home of bicycles, lawn mowers, a four wheeler, tools and other stuff that prevents our cars from living there.
But, we do have a beautiful play yard. There is a stage where my beloved will preform the ceremony, our children and grandchildren will serve and entertain. There will be flowers in abundance.
The work of many hands will make our broken down back yard worthy of the celebration. Kristen’s parents have become our friends, they are our partners in this happy occasion and we know it will all work out.
Our little circus will be in all its lopsided, imperfect glory and another branch of our family tree will be claimed for the future. I suppose in reality, nothing about those things are terrifying at all.
Angie Brown is a humorist who loves being a wife, mother and grandmother. She lives in Opelika with her husband of 31 years and four of their seven children.