Fourteen years ago this week, my college roommate, Erin, and her husband, Jeff, got married. Hers was the first wedding I was ever in and it remains one of the best I've ever attended. They married in Maine, where Erin spent many childhood summers and Jeff attended college. They kept it simple: They took their vows on the edge of a cliff next to a lighthouse. After the morning ceremony, we all headed down the road to a gorgeous inn for a luncheon that went late into the day. I'll always remember how inexplicably perfect their steel-drum band sounded, even in a quintessential New England setting.
Something else I'll always remember: I was coming back from the ladies' room when I saw what appeared to be the entire group of wedding guests gathered for a photo on the lawn. I didn't want to miss the picture, so I hiked up my tea-length periwinkle dress, sprinted out on to the back porch and yelled, "Wait for me!" The crowd stopped their chit-chat and the photographer turned around to see who was coming. I ran across the lawn, inserted myself somewhere in the back row...and saw dozens of guests up on the porch, watching this scene.
This was not a photo of everyone in attendance; it was meant to be Erin's mom's extended family. Mortified, I tried to jump out of the shot, but her mom graciously asked me to stay in. (I think after the third take, I did slink away, only to be harassed by the rest of the bridesmaids and guests.)
Happy Anniversary, Erin and Jeff! And thanks for a day filled with lasting memories. —Kara Corridan, executive editor, Modern Bride