My daughter's wedding

My daughter's wedding took place on a warm, humid night in June, in the courtyard of a unique little venue that once was a small town bank. 

The mother of the groom and I spent many sweaty hours trying to bring my daughter's vision to life, strategically placing silk flowers, votive candles, and bud vases. It was a simple celebration for a young couple just starting out, with one set of parents who are retirees. There was a budget.

She was just stunning in her sparkling white dress and veil, her long jet black hair in soft waves around her face. I had seen her in her dress numerous times since it arrived at our door via UPS, but seeing her all put together with hair and makeup done to perfection just took my breath away. It was the first time I cried.

The groom was handsome -- hot -- in his tuxedo. So was her dad. I mean ... June. Courtyard. Louisiana summer. Hot. 

They didn't invite a bunch of people they didn't know to this celebration. None of mom's or dad's old work friends, nor distant relatives they never see or hear from. They wanted to be surrounded by people they knew and loved. Family. Friends.

Her first mother, Gail, was under the weather but Lora's half-sister came. Her other sister caught the bouquet. Her nieces were the flower girls. I was her "Something Blue." Her Godparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and several members of her new family she has met only a few times made the trip from several points east and west.

It made me miss my own mama, my brother, and my sister.

But my best friend since the eighth grade was there, just as she was on the day Lora was born, when she surprised me and spent the day keeping me calm and sane as I held my new baby while her first mother watched. On this day, she held on to me when I cried while we watched my husband dance with his baby girl.

There wasn't much dancing, though -- it was much too hot - but there was a lot of love and hope and joy. Familiar faces gathered to celebrate this happy occasion -- my daughter's wedding. 

When adoptive parents receive a child from another woman, a lot of people boldly ask, "Why did she give her away?"

And I figured that one day my little girl would ask me the same question. I was ready.

I found a quote on the internet that I loved and latched on to for my reply: "She didn't give her away. She gave her to me." 

At my daughter's wedding, the minister, a friend of theirs, asked my husband Marty, "Who gives this woman in marriage?'

"My wife and I do," he replied.

And I thought of those words I used so often so long ago.

We didn't give her away. We gave her to Gavin. For safekeeping. To have and to hold. To love and to cherish. In sickness and in health. 

He did ask, so he better do it right. 

We trust him to take care of her, to make her happy, to see to her needs, to make sure she grows old in good health, to make sure she visits us once in a while.

Gail chose us to receive her child. 

Lora chose Gavin to receive ours. 

So now I have a son-in-law and a whole new set of in-laws/out-laws by marriage. We welcome them to our own crazy blended family of steps, halves, and adoptees. 

We know that every step our children take in their lives is really a step away from us. That makes us mamas proud, but it also makes us sad. 

My daughter's wedding was another step in her life's journey forward, even though it takes her another setp away from me, from us. 

But now she has a partner by her side to make sure she gets there safely.