Wedding Lunch

After the temple, we headed toward Hesperia where the reception would be that evening at the home of Tori’s parents.

On the way, we had lunch with our family and close friends who attended the temple with us in the morning.

It’s kind of like a progressive wedding, moving from town to town…

However, we only have a few pictures to commemorate this part of the day:

courtesy of Tori’s family.  Bryce was on camera duty, but he had handed me the camera somewhere at the temple and I didn’t find it again for a few hours.  Eh.

It was Tori’s sister’s birthday.  When Justin and Tori announced their wedding date, Tori’s mom made her call her sister and ask permission since it was her birthday.  We sang “Happy Birthday” and there was cake and she got to take a picture with Flat Tyler so I think it worked out.

At the lunch, the parents took turns saying nice things about Tori and Justin.

My head had been spinning with flowers and catering and tablecloths, so I asked Jeff to take over the program aspect of it.

In truth, I kept waiting to have words for this very momentous moment.

I always have words. Typically, an overabundance of words.

But I couldn’t find any words.  I tried and tried for weeks prior, but they would not come.

When Jeff took the microphone, he spoke poetically about instances in Justin’s life where he had pushed us (lovingly) away saying, “I got this”.  He was perfect.

Jeff closed with:

“Fact is, from day one Justin has been ready. And today, another big ‘I got this’ step. He is a great son. I would have to honestly say that Justin is one of my role models. We applaud his life so far, we congratulate him on this the most important day of his life, and we thank him for his persistence, obedience, diligence and effort. Justin, we love you unconditionally. You are a star in our lives. And lastly we know, ‘you got this’.”

Then Jeff turned to me and offered me the chance to say something.

What?

We had agreed!  He was speaking, I was hostessing.  This was not in the plan!

My heart was so full, nearly to bursting.  But I still didn’t have words.

So what did I do?

Cry.

Sloppy cry and mumbled something (loudly, wetly, into the microphone) about being so glad to finally have a daughter.  Which I meant, of course, and Tori cannot be more lovely.

But it was not my finest moment.  I want a do-over.

What I could have—should have—said (or sang if I were really brave), to my son, my heart:

I’ll love you forever.

I’ll like you for always.

As long as I’m living,

My baby you’ll be.