a day she will never forget

My sister's wedding day began like so many other wedding days, with last minute tasks to take care of -- get an up-do, pick up the bouquet, and other things of that nature. But the typical sequence of pre-ceremony craziness came to a halt shortly after they started.

While he was out checking things off of his wedding day to-do list, my dad started experiencing chest pains so severe that he dropped what he was doing and checked himself into the ER. Thinking at first that it was nothing more than a stress-induced anxiety attack, we all made a few minor adjustments to our plans and picked up the slack where necessary, but otherwise continued with the day's events as originally scheduled. There was some worry over whether he would be released in time to attend the sealing, but we mostly tried not to think about that.

Shortly after we arrived on Temple Square in Salt Lake City with the boys, Blake and I learned that the situation was more severe than we had been initially told. My dad had indeed suffered a heart attack, albeit a minor one, and it was looking unlikely that he'd make it to the sealing. This was a shock for so many reasons, and I couldn't decide if I was sad, frustrated, or angry. At the very least, the news was making me dizzy. We met up with a large group of extended family, who were in town to celebrate with us, at one of the visitor's centers and joined them in the wait to see how the rest of the day would unfold.

My brother, Riley, along with his small family, was at the hospital in Provo with my dad, while my other brother, Tyler, and one of my uncles, communicated the situation to the temple presidency. They were also in communication with my mom, who was already in the temple after helping Katie dress for the ceremony. The bride and groom, meanwhile, had no idea yet why exactly their sealing wasn't happening at the scheduled time.

News of my dad's condition trickled in slowly, but eventually we learned that by some miracle, his ER doctors had temporarily released him to attend the wedding on the condition that he would return right after (they kept his IV in as collateral), as well as that the sealing time had been pushed back an hour and a half to allow him time to get there. Before long we were all gathered in the temple to participate in the ceremony. When we walked into the room, there was my dad, sitting in one of the witness chairs, looking tired, but happy and relieved to be there.

The sealing was beautiful, and it was wonderful to be gathered in the temple with so much family -- people we were not only connected to eternally, but who had also been so helpful and supportive throughout the pandemonium of the morning. The words of advice the sealer gave to Katie and David, along with the blessings and promises of the marriage covenant, were especially poignant as that day Blake and I were celebrating (or trying to, anyway) our sixth wedding anniversary.

When it was over and the traditional group portraits had been taken, we all hurried south to prepare for that evening's reception at the Springville Museum of Art. We were behind schedule, and there was still much to do to get things ready before guests arrived. Everyone chipped in to help and fill the void made by the absence of my dad, who had by this time been admitted to the hospital and was preparing to undergo an angioplasty. During the reception the guests were received (my brothers took turns standing next to my mom in the receiving line so she wouldn't have to stand alone and explain by herself the story of why my dad was not there), the cake was cut, the bouquet was thrown, and the bride and groom danced to their song. Despite the fact that he was unable to attend, the party was, if I may say so, a beautiful and extremely well-attended success. After Katie and David had driven off for their honeymoon, those of us who were left quickly got to work cleaning up, packing up, and heading home.

At the end of the day we were all understandably completely exhausted -- physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. As those few of us who were left gathered in the kitchen of the home base retrospectively discussed the events of the day, we were even able to laugh a little about how it all went down.

My dad is going to be fine. His procedure went as well as could be expected, and he was released from the hospital on Monday morning. He is currently taking time off work to recover at home. On Easter Sunday, however, we all did nothing more than try to recover from the day before. It was, by far, the weirdest Easter I have ever celebrated.

A few minutes before midnight signified the end of that very long wedding day, Blake and I escaped to IHOP for an attempt at a brief anniversary dinner date. We were both too exhausted to talk much in between our bites of eggs Benedict, but had we been more awake, I'm sure that we would have reminisced about our own wedding day. It was a day I will always remember.

Katie's own April 23rd will, I'm sure, also be a day she will never forget.


P.S. Blake, I love you more than words can adequately describe here. These days I especially love and appreciate how you unflinchingly look right past my flaws. Thank you for six wonderful and adventurous years. I do so look forward to those to come.