America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking
MOTHER OF THE GROOM
A True Story
A True Story
Copyright 1997 Marcia Norwood
“I’m not a master gardener, but I am wiser for
the time I have spent in my garden. I’ve
discovered it takes something more than human hands to create a beautiful
garden. It's a partnership with the Creator of the Universe. Cultivating a friendship is a
partnership, too, -- of giving and receiving. “
Mary Marcia Lee Norwood
Antique Missouri Military Wagon in the Norwood Gardens |
My role as Mother of the Bride
was much easier than my role as Mother of the Groom. I’ve been both and lived to tell about
it…barely. Our daughter, Kristin, was married at our church. I prepared all the floral bouquets and
arrangements, made the punch, baked 500 mini-blueberry muffins, created the
wedding programs, decorated the church fellowship hall for the reception, and
for the most part acted as wedding coordinator.
Piece of Cake.
Four years later, our son, Benjamin, was
married in our rose garden. My husband, Ed, and I worked hard to make the
gardens around our Colonial home “picture-perfect.” Benjamin and Ed designed and built a
Victorian gazebo for the wedding ceremony.
Construction halted when Ed stepped on a nail causing a puncture wound
that refused to heal. Ed was back at
work after surgery and a brief hospital stay, sporting crutches and swallowing pain medication, and meds to cure the staff infection.
Norwood Front Gardens: Two Tiny Ponds, Pergola with Swing, Picket Fence, Gazebo |
Spring sprang at the Norwood
Gardens. Blossoms of butter-yellow forsythia; fluffy,
Cool-Whip-white and pink-lemonade crabapple; and brilliant, iridescent
pink-icing redwood trees lined our hundred foot driveway.
Stately
wintergreen boxwood marched along one side the rose parade. The fragrance of blood-red, Don Juan roses was
intoxicating. Birdies bathed unashamedly
on the front lawn. Their shower-songs
were accompanied by chirping crickets and croaking frogs sunbathing on stone
ledges of two tiny, bubbling ponds. Butterflies fluttered to and fro.
Crabapple Tree |
A robin bathes unashamedly on the front lawn |
Two Tiny Bubbling Ponds |
The slightest breeze
stirred the heady perfume of lavender wisteria blooms as they fell gently from
their perch on the overhead pergola.
Fire-engine-red and school-bus-yellow tulips stood guard along the
thirty foot sidewalk to our front door.
Periwinkle blue vinca made their way between hot pink and lipstick-red
azaleas and fuchsia rhododendrons on both sides of the white picket fence. Sweet, peach honeysuckle vines and
golden-yellow roses climbed the white-washed gazebo. Tiny faces of pansies in multicultural
shades of yellow, white, lavender and purple peeked out between the parsley and
chives.
It was my heart’s desire to dazzle and
delight members of the wedding party, and properly pamper the wedding guests,
who were our closest friends and family.
Each guest had their own
throne: an ornate, white, Victorian
garden chair.
Wisteria |
Tulips |
Honeysuckle Vines |
Preparations took their toll on my
body. I stooped from hours of dead-heading petals, and lifting big rocks to find their rightful
place in the garden. My arms and hands
were scratched from thorns and thistles.
My once-manicured nails were clipped (accidentally) with a pair of
pruning shears. My hands were rough
and calloused. I was covered from head
to toe with poison oak, ivy and sumac.
I exchanged my
favorite perfume, Shalimar ™, and my Mary-Kay ™ make-up for Oak-N-Ivy CalaGel ™, Tecnu™, and Calamine Lotion. I gained ten pounds for every dose of
steroids I swallowed to get rid of the poison, oak, ivy and sumac. Let's see . . . four doses that year, and by
the time the wisteria covered the entire pergola . . . I was too heavy to sit
in the porch swing.
I
was still outside about one o’clock
a.m. the morning of the wedding . . . watering the roses. I slipped and fell – unable to get up. My left knee was smashed and turned the wrong
way UNDERNEATH me. I didn’t move for
twenty minutes…while the water from the garden hose continued to flow.
All I could think about was “NOW – How
am I going to finish wallpapering the guest bathroom before the wedding?” which
was only hours away.
Ed was inside the house – asleep on the
sofa, to avoid taking the stairs to our master bedroom on the second floor. Somehow I managed to pull myself up out of
the mud and thorns and crawled into the house.
I woke up Ed. He hobbled on his crutches to shut off the
water. We were both too tired to go to
the Emergency Room. Ed slept on the couch, and I
slept beside him on the floor. A couple
of hours later I wiped off the dried mud. Ed dropped me off at the ER and went on his
way to take care of last-minute wedding errands. It's amazing how fast the
Emergency Room will work you through when you tell them 100-plus guests are due
at your home in a few hours for a wedding.
Ed called for reinforcements. The very friends and family we wanted to
lavish our love on…came to our rescue.
My dearest friend, Janice Christopher, picked me up from the ER; brought
me home; and stayed to help. Along with
Janice, my sister-in-laws: Lisa and Gail Bush
and special friends Cheryl Mullis
and Alicia
Hoff saved the day!
There would have been no wedding without them.
Ed and I were both strung out on pain
pills. I sat in the middle of the floor
of my kitchen giving orders. The “Steel
Magnolias” pretty much ignored me and did as they pleased. The guest bathroom on the main floor of our
home did get wallpapered after all, and with grateful hearts - we even made
Janice's macho-husband, Dale, an “Honorary Steel Magnolia" for his help in
cleaning and decorating!
Dale and Janice Christopher |
All in all it was quite a wedding day. Ed looked so handsome in his tails
and splints and crutches. Under my
full-length gown one could barely see the lines of my cast/immobilizer that ran
from my crotch to my toes. Glassy-eyed
from pain medication - not tears, Ed and I limped along through the gazebo, down the stairs and joined the wedding guests sitting in
beautiful, ornate, white, thrones that covered our soggy but well manicured
lawn for this sacred event. Tables with
umbrellas dotted the horizon. It was
surreal -- at least in my mind.
I hardly noticed when the wind velocity
picked up and sent one of the umbrellas airborne until it hit the gazebo during
the opening song. It alarmed some of the wedding guests.
Ed and I were
undaunted. The gentleman playing the
keyboard was a little shaken - but the soloists, Bill and Jennifer Hildebrand, persevered.
Things
really began to get fun when the two ring bearers, dressed in tails...drove
around the back of our two-story Colonial home in their own miniature Jeep
decorated for the occasion. They were
followed by the flower girls attired in white lace - driving their own
miniature, Barbie convertible.
After vows and rings were exchanged our
beloved pastor, Dr. William O. Poe, gave the closing prayer. The wedding guests strolled through the gazebo
and well-watered rose garden, and filed into our home for the reception.
Everyone really seemed to enjoy the garden wedding - even the ones not heavily medicated.
Thanks for stopping by!Everyone really seemed to enjoy the garden wedding - even the ones not heavily medicated.
Come back again, and bring a friend!
Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking
Email: marcia.norwood@sbcglobal.net
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