The Sausage Worked (And Other Things I'll Never Forget About My Daughter's Wedding)

I have been trying all week to come up with the right words for how I have been feeling since my daughter's wedding this past weekend. There is only one that fits: pure joy.

A Week Worth Savoring

It started small and grew from there. We arrived last Wednesday and met my daughter, her soon-to-be husband, and his parents for a quiet dinner, just the seven of us. The perfect way to ease into a wedding weekend.

We have been to Galena, IL several times, so it was nice to start from a place of comfort. For those who may not know, Galena is a quaint river town in northwest Illinois. (Or as my history-loving husband would say: it's the home of Ulysses S. Grant.) Main Street is lined with shops, cafes, and restaurants, and outside the downtown area, it opens up to rolling hills and valleys. Perfect for an outdoor wedding ceremony.

The only hiccup was a storm Wednesday that brought straight-line winds and knocked out some trees and power lines. But by Thursday the skies were clearing just in time for the rehearsal and dinner. As the wedding party and family arrived, the joy was palpable. The hugs, the banter, the stories shared over drinks at his parents' Airbnb later that night set the whole weekend in motion.

The Night Before

Friday was mostly a rest day for guests still arriving, but my daughter thought it would be fun to host a welcome night at our Airbnb. We weren't sure what to expect, so we stocked up on snacks and a variety of drinks and hoped for the best. To our surprise, both sides showed up in full force, and the laughter expanded to fill almost every corner of that house. (A larger place might have helped, but we made it work.)

The highlight of the night was my daughter and her fiancé burying a single Italian sausage in the backyard. Apparently, it wards off bad weather on your wedding day. If you have ever walked up to a meat counter and asked for just one sausage, you can picture the look I got from the butcher. More on that later.

The Morning Of

My daughter stayed with us the night before, so we got to wake up together as a family one last time before everything changed. The four of us, coffee in hand, just sitting there. My husband was already crying. I looked at my girls and saw two grown, capable, beautiful women where a little tow-headed princess and her red-headed sister used to stand, both barely reaching my hip. It didn't feel like that long ago. And now here we were.

Hair, Mimosas, and a Little Magic

We were off early to the venue. The bridal suite was full of music and mimosas, danishes and little sandwiches, and stories from girls who have known my daughter since they were kids. Watching them show up for her all these years later, bringing the same laughter they always have, was one of my favorite parts of the entire day.

Down the hall, the groom's suite was full of cologne and testosterone. But the joy was the same.

When the time came to get her into her dress, I found myself feeling a little out of body. I kept thinking about my own wedding, the same anticipation, the same fullness in my chest, the same sense that something big was happening and you just had to let it.

The Part That Actually Mattered

My husband, who watches weather the way some people watch sports, had been tracking a small storm all morning and let everyone know it was set to roll through right at ceremony time. And then, as we lined up to walk the long outdoor aisle, the clouds broke and the sun came out.

I am telling you. The sausage worked.

What followed went by faster than I wanted it to. Her walk down the aisle on her dad's arm, both of them smiling so wide it almost hurt to look at. The bluffs behind the altar. The moment she and her husband faced each other and started their vows, and the whole room seemed to exhale. They had written them themselves, and you could hear in every word that this was not a performance. Everyone felt it. My daughter had found her person, and it showed.

The Part I Keep Thinking About

Then it was the reception, the dancing, the bouncing from table to table trying to hug everyone who made the trip. My 80-plus-year-old uncle and his wife were there, and they even danced a little. My best friend and her daughter, my sister and her family, my husband's siblings and their families, our whole friend group: all of them there. At one point I looked around the room and I did not think about who was missing. I only saw who was there. And for the first time in a long time, the worry just left me.

We sang Sweet Caroline. We danced until the lights came on. And mid reception, a full rainbow appeared over the venue and everyone stopped and stood outside to look at it.

That sausage really delivered.

We Did It

I laid my head down sometime that night, or maybe morning, and fell asleep smiling. Happy for my daughter and her husband, who had the day she always dreamed of. Happy for my husband, who cried more than all of us combined and was finally at peace. Proud of my younger daughter, who was the best maid of honor anyone could ask for. Grateful for my new son-in-law’s family, who folded right into ours.

Twenty-seven years ago, when Andy and I got married, we had no idea what we were building toward. We just started. We showed up, day after day, and tried to do right by these girls and by each other. Standing in that room Saturday night, watching our daughter dance with her husband surrounded by every person who loves them, I think I finally understood what all of that was for.

We built this. And it turned out more beautiful than anything we could have planned.

Oh, and if you have an upcoming wedding happening, don't forget to bury a sausage the night before!