"There is just a lot to do in order to get ready for a wedding, isn't there?" I sighed to my mom as we organized paper plates.
She nodded, a little harried-looking, and went to the back of the social hall to be sure there were enough tables for the luncheon.
It was April 17th, 2008, I was getting married the next day, and even though I'm usually a pretty easy-going person, I was stressed. No way around it. I had sent NaElle and Danica (Shiloh's fiance) to go pick up my bouquet while the family and I set up tables and centerpieces in the Social Hall, and I was trying to keep Steve and his brothers from being too goofy.
I turned around and caught Steve and David (his youngest brother) licking the paper plates and putting them back in the middle of the stack. Trying not to laugh, I gave Steve my best glare.
This picture is one of my favorites of Steve and his brothers. If you ever want to laugh so hard you can't breathe, hang out with these guys for a half or so. They are hilarious!!
"Seriously?!?!"
He just winked, and I laughed despite my own best efforts. "You are ridiculous! Can you come help me with these centerpieces?" I grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
Just then, NaElle and Danica walked in, holding a tiny little bunch of flowers. I gaped.
"Is...is that my bouquet?" I asked, trying not to show my disappointment. It was tiny. I had wanted all fake flowers for all of my bridesmaids' bouquets, but my bouquet was one area where I had splurged--I had even gone to the local florist's and pored over their catalog, finally choosing the bouquet that was exactly the shape and color that I had wanted.
It was the right shape and color, all right, but not at all the size I had imagined from the picture in the book. I wanted to cry (which I fully realized was dumb, but I was pretty disappointed), but I asked NaElle kindly to put the bouquet in the fridge for me so it would stay fresh until the next day, and I sternly told myself to not be silly and that I would learn to love my bouquet.
I then went about some other errands, putting the bouquet out of my mind with the seemingly never-ending list of other things that needed to be accomplished.
A few hours later, David found me in the kitchen of my parent's home and beckoned to me mysteriously. "Jewel, I have something to show you."
"Okay," I laughed. "What did you lick this time?"
Mom Busch (my affectionate nickname for Steve's mom) came in the door of the kitchen, holding something behind her back.
"What's going on?" I asked, starting to become curious as Steve's other two brothers, Jason and Andrew, came into the kitchen as well.
"Well," Jason started, obviously uncomfortable, "we saw that you were disappointed by how small your bouquet ended up being."
"So we drove to all the other places in town and bought out all of their daisies and yellow roses," David chimed in,
"--and Mom arranged them for us." Andrew finished.
Mom Busch sheepishly brought my bouquet out from behind her back.
I gasped. It was beautiful--exactly what I had pictured for my wedding day. My eyes immediately filled with tears, which I could tell made my soon-to-be brother-in-laws incredibly uncomfortable, and I pulled them each in for hugs. "Thank you." I managed to choke out, and they excused themselves quickly.
After they all left, I gazed at my bouquet for a few minutes more. With so many thoughtful people who loved me and wanted to help me, I knew tomorrow was going to be perfect. How could it not be?
My eyes flew open before my alarm
ever went off, even though it was still only 5:15. Today was my wedding day. There was no way I could possibly sleep in.
I went into the bathroom to take
a quick shower, and by the time I came out, my mom was in the kitchen getting
things ready. She glanced up as I
entered.
“How are you feeling?”
“Excited. Nervous.
Excited. Yep, that about sums it
up!” I tried to laugh, but it somehow
got stuck in my throat.
My mom chortled as she turned
back to the sink. “Want to get some
breakfast?”
I nodded. “I guess I’d better eat.” But when I actually sat down with my food, it
tasted like cardboard and I had a hard time actually choking any of it
down.
My mom smiled
sympathetically. “It’s okay—I remember
that on my wedding day, I could hardly eat anything at all. When you’re that excited and that nervous, the
last thing you want to do is eat.”
I smiled back, grateful that she
understood, and then NaElle bounced in.
“Okay, if you want to get your hair done by the most amazing cosmetologist
ever, you’d better come with me!” She
flipped her hair back as I giggled and then we went in to take over the
bathroom for the next couple of hours.
This is how awesome my then-single sister was...she was willing to pose with both Steve and I and my other then-engaged brother and his fiance for the sake of humor. (Don't worry, she's now happily married with two cute little boys of her own)
By the time she was done, I was
astonished. She had pulled all of my
long, reddish-blonde hair back into a sweeping up-do, with curls bunched up at
the crown of my head. “Wow,” I whistled,
looking at myself in the mirror. “I look
beautiful!”
NaElle stood beside me, her arm
touching mine. “Of course you do! It’s your wedding day! Now, go get dressed, but don’t mess up your
hair!”
I had chosen to wear a new
sundress that Steve had given me for my birthday to go to the temple in, and
when he showed up, looking a little pale, but handsome as ever in his suit and
tie, I smiled at him. “You ready for
this?”
He smiled in return. “Just don’t say ‘no’ when it comes time,
okay? I don’t think I could handle being
left at the altar at this point.”
I snickered and poked him in the
ribs. “You wish you were getting off
that easy, Mister!”
As we walked out to the car, he
pulled me close and bent over to kiss me on the nape of my neck. “You look amazing.”
I laughed. “You look pretty good yourself!”
“Ridiculous.” He smiled, and I breathed in the fresh,
sunlit air that only exists on a beautiful April morning in Snowflake, Arizona,
before climbing into his car.
As he sat down in the driver’s
seat, he glanced over at me. “So,
remember how we’re about to get married in a little bit?”
I laughed. “I can’t wait!” I absolutely meant it.
He laughed, too. “Neither can I.”
By the time we got to the temple,
my hands were shaking from a combination of excitement and nerves. Steve steadied me by holding my hand in his,
and together we entered the Snowflake Temple.
The ceremony was perfect. As I knelt at the altar, looking into Steve’s
eyes as they filled with tears, I knew what it was to feel complete and absolute
happiness. I glanced around the room--everywhere I looked in the small sealing room, I saw another face of someone I loved dearly; teachers, friends, and family, all standing and sitting around us as we made this covenant with God and with each other.
Further on into the ceremony, I began to feel the presence of other loved ones in my family who had already passed on; my Grandma and Grandpa Beecroft, my Aunt Carla, my Uncle Darin, and my Great-Grandma Flake. I could feel their joy and support as Steve and I made this special covenant, and I was overwhelmed with the amount of love I felt in such a small room. As the ceremony concluded and
we leaned across the altar to kiss each other, I felt Steve's hand take mine. This was what Heaven felt like, I was sure of
it.
I went back to the bridal
dressing room to get changed into my fancy bridal gown (I had worn my simple temple
dress for the actual ceremony), and both my mom and Steve’s mom greeted me with
teary smiles that seemed to mirror the smile that I couldn’t seem to keep off
of my face.
“I didn’t know it was possible to
be this happy,” I laughed as I hugged Mom Busch.
She smiled up at me, her kind
eyes searching my face. “Oh, you two
deserve to be so happy. You’re perfect
for each other.”
Our parents are pretty much awesome--my parents are on the left, and Steve's parents are on the right.
As I finished getting ready, I looked
into the full-length mirror and gaped at myself. Tall, slender, dressed in a simple but
stunning white satin dress with short sleeves, a long white ribbon around the most
narrow part of my waist and tied in a bow in the back that draped down the
train, a daintily sparkling necklace and earrings that accompanied my wedding
and engagement rings perfectly, my veil falling from just under my curls down
my back—I couldn’t help it. “Oh, my goodness,
I look like a princess.” I breathed.
My mom came up behind me and
squeezed my arms. “Even better¾you look like a bride.”
After the two moms and my other helpers (my aunt Julie and her daughter, Tiffani) left the dressing room, I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment longer before walking out into the foyer of the temple. I got there just as Steve was rounding the corner, and when he saw me, he exhaled sharply. “Wow,” he whispered.
I had no words in that moment. He was so stylish and handsome standing there,
dressed in a tux that perfectly accentuated his tall, lean frame that I just
admired him while he looked at me, wonderment in his eyes.
He came closer. “I’ve heard my friends describe the feeling
of seeing their bride on their wedding day, and I always thought that they must
be exaggerating. Now I know—they weren’t
coming anywhere close to the truth.”
I could only smile in response,
my heart too full to speak.
He took my hand in his. “You ready?”
“I’m ready.” I gazed up at him, perfect
joy swelling through me.
He opened the door, and we walked
through it together, greeting our future hand in hand.
It was the perfect beginning.
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