...and I was a wreck.
I showed up at the wedding with every intention of being the consummate professional harpist for my friend's wedding. And it worked for a little while. I unloaded the harp, greeted Marti and Martha, we warmed up, I conferred with the priest...and then Sam came out in his tuxedo.
And I lost it. LOST it. Couldn't even hide the tears, the sniffles, the sobs.
It didn't get any better once the ceremony started. I was so flustered I even forgot to play the Celtic Alleluia (the Celtic Alleluia, of all things). I quickly blew through (no pun intended) the only ragged tissue I could find balled up in the bottom of my purse. A very kind woman from the congregation passed me her embroidered handkerchief. It was soaked through in a couple of minutes.
Beautiful ceremony. So much love. Happiness.
I was just thinking, "I wish I had a photo of the girls from the Celtic Band performing at the wedding," but then thought better of it. When I cry, it's not a pretty sight. You know those romantic movie heroines who can sob and sob and look delicate and vulnerable? Not me. Nope.
I managed to pull myself together by the time we performed Sam's original composition for the recessional. Which was based on a tune from a video game...which was just fine with his wife Jess. Good woman. And for the postlude, we sneaked in a few rounds of "I Buried My Wife and Danced On Her Grave" just for fun. (Jess doesn't know about this, though...hee hee).
I do have a photo that will shock you, though. I felt like a National Geographic photographer when I captured this rare occurrence...