I always knew that I wanted a wedding more personal, simple, and laid-back than many today, but I also found myself getting caught up in the details during the first couple months of our engagement. Now I'm increasingly inspired by the simple, meaningful ceremonies of past generations, as well as brides today who are getting married in their homes, backyards, and public parks.
When I'm not being inspired by practical brides today, I'm being inspired by my own lack of finances. I still haven't found full time employment and Aaron's finishing up school, so money is really tight. I don't consider this to have a negative impact on our wedding planning; instead, I see it as an opportunity to pick out and highlight what is really important to us. And long as I marry my best friend by the end of the night, our wedding will be a complete success.
Meg over at A Practical Wedding made an excellent point today: maybe we need to lower our expectations when it comes to wedding stuff. She wrote, "What is important is that your wedding day is really happy, and is the start of a fantastic lifelong partnership. The trick is figuring out what will make us happy, and what is just extra fluff."
Her post reminded me of a passage from Little Women:
There were to be no ceremonious performances, everything was to be as natural and homelike as possible, so when Aunt March arrived, she was scandalized to see the bride come running to welcome and lead her in, to find the bridegroom fastening up a garland that had fallen down, and to catch a glimpse of the paternal minister marching upstairs with a grave countenance and a wine bottle under each arm.
'Upon my word, here's a state of things!" cried the old lady, taking the seat of honor prepared for her, and settling the folds of her lavender moiré with a great rustle. "You oughtn't to be seen till the last minute, child.'
'I'm not a show, Aunty, and no one is coming to stare at me, to criticize my dress, or count the cost of my luncheon. I'm too happy to care what anyone says or thinks, and I'm going to have my little wedding just as I like it. John, dear, here's your hammer.' And away went Meg to help `that man' in his highly improper employment.
Mr. Brooke didn't even say, 'Thank you,' but as he stooped for the unromantic tool, he kissed his little bride behind the folding door, with a look that made Aunt March whisk out her pocket handkerchief with a sudden dew in her sharp old eyes.