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Friday September 8, 2006 // By Sandy

Wheels in motion

This morning Sarah woke me up with a whisper: “It’s started.” The Wedding Weekend had begun. Last night we had wrapped up pretty much all outstanding tasks and created a schedule to plot out exactly what we’d be doing over the weekend. The weekend was locked into place—now we just had to follow our own directions.

So far, so good. The number of actual tasks left to do numbered so few that we actually scheduled some time to go to the beach, on the wise recommendation of Nikki. It was warm enough for me to take a dip. As I was floating out there in the lake, I took a deep breath and tried to relax. A measure of calm before the onslaught of activity began. The problem was, I was already too damn relaxed. I’m more calm now than I’ve been all summer. Sarah, too. Either we’re ridiculously well-planned or ridiculously ignorant of our own responsibilties, but either way, it’s blissful. After a half-hour sitting on the rocks, eating a peach and ice cream and having a wonderful chat about, well, everything, we headed back home.

Tonight we had our rehearsal dinner for the families to formally meet each other, and it went off beautifully. As crazy as our families get sometimes, they clearly love both of us and are as excited about the wedding as we are, if not more so. It makes the process so much easier.

Tomorrow the big crowds come. We’re opening up our house for visits from all family and out-of-town friends. No stress here either, because the whole thing is being orchestrated by my mom, and she’s even more organized than I am. I plan to basically show up and make sure everyone’s picture gets up on the picture wall.

So yeah, we’re good. The best part is that all that time we might spend stressing is better spent getting excited. It seems much healthier. However, when I think I’ve got everything scheduled and slotted away, I remember the trick for making God laugh. Right now he’s just smirking, not willing to betraying his hand. That hasn’t stopped me from checking hourly. Futile, yes, but what else am I going to do with my time?

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