If you haven’t read part one of this blog post already, read it here ~ http://bit.ly/19nOE0C
Seriously. Read it, then come back.
It’s weird to get emotional putting together a blog post. Sure, I snot at daddy/daughter dances, some first looks, all daddy/daughter first looks, and that one episode of House M.D. where Wilson’s girlfriend is in the bus crash (ERMEHGERD), but it’s a rare and serious occasion when it happens while writing a blog.
I think what got me was while looking at the photos, I remember thinking that none of us knew what was coming. Good, bad, long road, short road, no road, we didn’t know. And in the photos, we were all there having a huge celebration for people we loved incredibly much, ignoring the unknown long enough to shower two people with love on their wedding day.
Screw you, cancer. We’re drinking champagne and dancing the night away.
But then I made the mistake of putting myself for a brief moment in Megan’s dad’s shoes. Briefly. Heh. Geez. I can’t even type this with dry eyes. I can’t imagine any parent hearing that. But my daughter’s a daddy’s girl through and through, and I’m ok with that.
I fast forwarded my brain to my daughter’s wedding day. The one-two punch of “Daddy, I have cancer”, followed by “Daddy, I’m getting married in 6 days.” Would I be supportive? You bet. Would I be as strong as I could be and optimistic and all that happy shtuff? You bet.
Would I break down like a fool and ugly cry a lot? Yeah. Yeah I would. So, forgive me, but there’s a lot of photos of the daddy/daughter dance this round.
Everything came together in 6 days. It came together better in 6 days than some weddings I see that have had months to plan. Flowers by an aunt with zero prior experience, chairs rented by a family friend, tables donated by a church, a DJ that volunteered, a cake made by a friend, the cake topper made by Megan’s dad out of clay based on drawings she had done for Joe, outdoor heaters donated by family and friends.
And it was perfect.
And we partied so hard the cops got called. I tried to get them in the group shot, but they hadn’t had any champagne at all and didn’t find it funny. We, on the other hand, found it rather hilarious.
Normally I’m not one for posting formal pics of the family, but I love these guys and wanted you to see their smiling faces. Left to right, Robert, Chantel, Joe, Megan, Emily, Deborah, David. #grouphug
I’m going to close this blog with something non-emotional and hilarious and awkward. Like I do.
You’ll notice several hanging lights made out of old liquor bottles in this post. Megan’s brother Robert makes those, along with all kinds of insanely cool things. His website is SalvagedIF.com. His work is amazing.
Robert’s an awesome guy and a great friend. And a complete goofball. Did I mention the man crush? So during the later part of the evening during the reception, I tell Robert I want to buy a couple of his lights. He says he has a box full in the garage, let’s go pick some out.
Sweet. I’m excited. I get cool lights. Let me add in here that at this point in the evening Robert and I are possibly responsible for a champagne shortage going on in California.
So we’re out in the garage digging through this box of really cool lights, and we hear the door from the house to the garage start to open. I of course say the first thing that comes to my mind at the time.
“DON’T COME OUT HERE, WE’RE NAKED.”
Long pause. Door slams shut.
We start laughing hysterically.
What I didn’t realize is that we’d never actually turned the light on. The light in the garage had come on from a motion sensor, and after about 5 minutes it automatically goes off.
Back to laughing hysterically, then the lights go out. Heh. Wow. This looks really bad. Two laughing dudes in a dark garage, someone in the house thinking we’re naked.
And so we start laughing harder. And then the door opens, and all we see is the silhouette of David, Robert’s dad, in the doorway.
“Uh. What’s going on out here?”
What had happened is that Robert’s grandmother was going to come out to the garage to get something. She was completely unaware that anyone was in the garage. She starts to open the door, hears someone yell something about nakedness, panics, and goes and tells Robert’s dad.
“Someone’s naked in the garage. I think you’d better go out there.”
By the time we realize what just happened, we couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard. By the time Robert’s grandmother figure it out, there was a lot of eye-rolling and eventual laughter.
No one ever found the champagne, though. Still a mystery.