August 15, 2015 was the wedding of a beautiful bride and a handsome groom. Their love is palpable and contagious. Their wedding was colorful, simple, and rich with culture and affection. There were four bridesmaids and five groomsmen. I, Susanna, was provided the great honor being among those chosen for the wedding party. This past winter Shannon and Jose decided to change their wedding from December 2015 to August. I was quite pleased at the prospect of being in a summer wedding, and how much sooner they would be able to be together. Almost as soon as the change was made, Shannon sent all of us bridesmaids the link online to the dresses she wanted us to wear. Beautiful eggshell dresses covered in coral and turquoise floral patterns. I promptly ordered my dress, and once it arrived I refused to wear it out of a sort of reverence for the wedding. It's SO cute! I thought, but I can't wear it 'til Chacha's wedding! As the months rolled by, I would occasionally eye it proudly as it hung patiently in my closet. As the day of "la boda" drew closer I thought, It definitely looks like it will fit nicely, but I should probably try it on just in case. Every time this thought crossed my mind, I nodded and resolved to "definitely try it on later."
Then came the fateful day of... August the 14th. With the wedding less than 36 hours away, I finally decided I ought to try on my dress so as to confirm my suspicions of it fitting me perfectly. I slipped it gingerly over my head, and began to zip it up the side. It closed happily around my waist, and moved easily up the lower part of my rib cage, but then to my horror, my curves were taking preventative measures and the zipper came to a stubborn halt. I whispered a terror-filled, "Oh no..." and I yelled for assistance. "Mattie! Help!?" "What is it?" she questioned. I pointed to my dress, then to the zipper, then to my chest, wide-eyed and desperately hoping it was merely a difficult zipper, nothing more. Fixed zippers are feasible in 24 hours, breast reductions are not. She laughed and yanked and then, justifiably, asked, "Is this seriously the first time you're trying this on. Sus, the wedding is tomorrow!" "I'm aware the wedding is tomorrow, and yes!" I cried, "This cannot be my life right now!" I was yelling now. "Oh no, oh no, oh no! Ahhhh! This is not real! I'm so foolish! What am I going to do?! Stupid boobs! Why do I have to be so fabulously attractive?!" My next logical step was to fly, partially clothed, into the next room and tell my roomie. "Rudooooo! Heeeeelp!" I whined, frantically. "What did you do, Chichi?" she asked. "Look!" I replied, pointing at my dire...situations. "Please tell me this isn't the first time you've put on this dress. You've had it for months!" Sheepishly, I confessed that, yes, this may be the very first time. "I did not know that this was the kind of person I lived with..." she chided with a smirk. "I am! It is! I've had you fooled all along. Please help me! What should I do?" She glanced at me over the top of her glasses and sighed. "I'll run to Walmart and figure something out. I may be able to sew elastic into it.." A wave of relief swept over me. Rudo will try to save me.
That night when I arrived home from the rehearsal dinner, my sweet Rudo was perched on the couch, and, while a movie was playing, her brow was furrowed in concentration on her task. I went to bed around 2am, and she was still sewing. When I woke up the next morning she had just woken up to continue her work. We made one last emergency run to Walmart to retrieve clasps. After the clasps were sewn on, she promptly sewed me into the dress. Her thumb was bleeding, the needle was bent and threatening to break, and both of us were frantic. I was about to be late for bridal photos. While she made the final few stitches we prayed that God would keep the needle from breaking. Throughout the entire ordeal, she and I would occasionally burst into uncontrollable laughter regarding the absurd and preventable nature of the whole situation. I told her not to worry about sticking me with the needle, as it would be a sort of penance for my for my foolishness if she did, At last, the deed was done. I was girded, sewn, and fully patched into my dress. As I sped to the wedding venue, I prayed that the threads would hold. The Lord saw fit to put his hands on the seams, and through pictures, processions, and partying nary a thread came loose. I don't think I will be winning any bridesmaid of the year awards, however, Rudo deserves any and every best roommate EVER award.
It's funny how the days and hours leading up to a wedding can seem delirious and chaotic, but a sweet and reverent calm falls over it all when the bride makes her way down the aisle towards her soon-to-be husband. Their eyes meet, and they find forever to be the sweetest word they know. Cakes, bridesmaids' dresses, family drama, technical difficulties, and rain are all forgotten in the breathless moments when two become on. As Shannon and Jose promised "I do," a gentle rain fell on all heads and matched the tenderness of all the joyous tears. Now that they are one flesh and one mind, may all else fade as they walk together towards their Lord. When I remember the day's fiasco with laughter, I will also remember always remember the celebration with a warm, colorful, dancing fondness. And for that, praise Abba.
