[I wrote this several months ago but thought it would be neat to post on my Grandma's birthday. Happy Birthday, Grandma Ann...love you!]
Childhood play, a treasure hunt, a race, a word written in petals of petunias. A safe haven, a lawnmower ride in grandpa's lap, a splash in the inflatable pool under the shade of a big oak tree. A dream come true, "I dos," a reception, a cutting of the cake, a wave goodbye to family and friends.
My happily ever after began in my grandparents' backyard long before my wedding ceremony was held there on that sticky hot day in June. It began with cookies on the back patio and Easter egg hunts in the Christmas tree patch. It was spending a thunderstorm under a blanket on the porch with a flashlight, Grandma, and our giggles.
It was after I outgrew playing "Wannaberts" in the hallway and began sharing a love for the same books as Grandma. Even after I outgrew eating ice cream from the carton while sitting on the counter, it was helping prepare an evening meal by stirring the green beans and pouring glasses of water.
It was conversations that changed from school to VBS to world politics.
It was always feeling safe and loved.
It was only logical that I dreamed of having my wedding in the garden where I used to drop rose petals pretending to be a flower girl. It just made sense, and I knew I was supposed to have my wedding there like I knew how to say my own name. It was an "of course...," a "well obviously..." It was like a memory from long ago bringing me shelter on a rainy day.
I could get married there because it was there I was taught to drink tea like a lady and crawl through the muddy creek bed with adventure in my bones. It was there I ate scones and played library and went on walks with a fudge-pop in hand.
I could get married there because it was in my Grandparents' backyard that I grew into the lady Brent fell in love with.