Diary of a Kansas Wedding

I am back from the land of Maxwell House coffee. My sister actually told the couple who served us the rehearsal dinner, “Could you please make the coffee a little more like coffee house coffee, and a little less like church coffee?” I appreciated her effort, because strong Maxwell House coffee is much better tasting.

My nephew’s wedding was very sweet with just the right amount of pink and softness, and it was in a beautiful old Mennonite church on the Kansas prairie. Isn’t this dreamy?…

I was sad at times that Ruthie wasn’t with me to hang out with all her cousins, but being kid-less also meant I could be put to hard labor setting up the church and putting it back together again. When I called home on Friday morning to tell her I was decorating the church, she said, “I wish I was there to help you!” Proof that leaving her at home was the right decision!

Hard labor was my task, because after I tried countless times to tie a wired ribbon bow I remembered why I left all the foofie stuff up to my best friend at my own wedding. My sister-in-law, Nicole, was the bow master.

It’s not often that my brother and sister and I find ourselves in the same place all at once. I think the last time this happened was at Gordy’s funeral in 2005, and before that at my wedding in 2001. It was fun to catch up together, lounge by the hot tub, play games in the hotel’s family room, and document how many different conversations about football can take place within a 24 hour period. I am now schooled on the finer points of who’s rank will go down if USC wins the next game. I think.

I even got into an intense political discussion with my dad and brother at dinner Saturday night, testing out my political awareness now that I’m no longer a political apathetic. I was enjoying myself and would have kept going down the checklist of issues, but my mom – She Who Cracks Under Intense Conflict – nervously pleaded for us to leave the restaurant.

I crashed in the same room as my mom and three teenagers – my niece, Kara; my nephew’s girlfriend, Karina; and Rodica, the Moldovan girl living with them (more on her later). We were packed in there, and the mess was messy (Rodica kept pointing out the boys’ room was not as messy), but we also stayed up late watching movies and talking about hair. Plus, the boys’ room was stinky.

I learned that my niece has a Facebook page. When I discovered this, I almost blurted out, “I’ll add you as my friend!” Then my brain got a hold of my tongue, reminding me that it is not cool to have your 36 year old chubby aunt as a friend on your Facebook page.

We also got a kick out of my seven year old nephew following my college age nephew around. Everywhere. Drew. Drew. Drew. That’s all Jake was about, was Drew. Fortunately, Drew is awesome, and the sort of magnetic personality that draws all seven year olds everywhere to himself. No wonder he’s majoring in elementary education. Also? Jake must have been jealous of Drew’s girlfriend, because he asked her, “Why do you follow him around so much?” Uh, backatcha?

My nephew, Jesse, is all grown up, and his new wife, Kaley, seems very sweet and confident and aware of what she wants. There was no bitchy stressed-out bride vibe coming from her at all. She was wonderful.

Besides drinking coffee from a can, I will leave you with the other clue that I wasn’t in Seattle anymore – a sign posted at the Wichita Airport’s baggage claim: