After the perfect wedding, the
November 26, 2008 | A strapless, long, white, ruched
dress complemented with a plain veil and hidden white
slippers. This is what my outfit consisted of on the
most enchanting day in a man and woman's life. My wedding
day was finally here.
Sept. 21, 2007, was the last day of summer and the
day my boyfriend of four years and I chose to make vows
to love one another through sickness and health. On
this day the grass was still vibrant green and the leaves
were changing from red to orange to brown before drifting
on the ground by the light gusts of wind. The sky was
clear and the sun was beating down an ideal 70 degrees.
Six p.m. had arrived and the guests were seated patiently
waiting for me, the bride, to walk down the aisle.
I wasn't nervous; I knew marrying Eric was the right
thing to do. My dad escorted me from the Mercedes-Benz
towards the white pillars where my guests were bathing
in the sun, waiting for my arrival. We walked down the
aisle covered in silk-like rose petals to the classic
bridal march song. The sweet scent of the burnt orange
Gerbera daisies and hot pink roses, which made up my
small and simple bouquet, filled my nose with pleasure.
This was it.
I met my soon-to-be husband at the end of the aisle
where he grabbed my hand and smiled. The bishop began
his speech. Dazed, the world was moving around me and
words were spoken, I had no idea what was being said
until he asked, "Do you, Kelly Jean Rigby, take Eric
Matthew Brinkerhoff to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
I managed to squeak out, "I do!" We were finally married.
The roaring audience gave us a standing ovation as we
floated on cloud nine to the reception home.
The reception home was filled with vivacious Gerbera
daisies and roses, with white candles flickering everywhere.
Everything was exactly how I had envisioned it. The
aroma of fresh maple-glazed salmon and herb-roasted
potatoes filled the room as the guests were making their
way in to the reception. After dinner, the disc jockey
played music for our friends and family to groove to,
pictures were taken, and toasts were made. Dancing our
hearts out until 11 p.m., our wedding day was over.
The wedding may have been over, but another party
was about to begin. Even though our honeymoon flight
to California left at 8 a.m. the next day, we were going
out to party with our friends. Our day had been perfect
and nothing was going to ruin it for us. Seven a.m.
came too soon. The phone was ringing off the hook until
we finally got up and answered it. It was Eric's dad
calling to tell us we had an hour before our flight
We jumped out of bed and immediately wanted to crawl
back in. The light hurt my head, the room was spinning,
and I didn't feel very well. We drank too much tequila
the night before and the thought of flying didn't sound
like much fun. We managed to packed up our suitcases
and drove 15 minutes to the airport.
We checked in and made it to security having 20 minutes
before our flight left. Eric reached the metal detector
and walked through. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, the detector went
off. He took his belt off, dumped the change out of
his pocket, and slid the watch off his arm attempting
to walk through again. He made it. Now it was my turn.
I had already taken my watch and belt off, so I thought
I was good to go.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. "We've got a red-alarm here and
we need a female security guard to search this woman,"
the male security guard said. What could they possibly
be searching me for?
As I waited for a female to come search me, a final
warning came over the intercom calling for all passengers
flying to Newport Beach, Calif. My husband sprinted
to the departure gate to try and hold the plane. Begging
and pleading with the gate attendants to hold the plane,
they wouldn't budge. After waiting 10 minutes, the female
security guard finally came to search me. She was running
the metal detector all around my body and it was beeping
like crazy around my chest area as if I had a bomb strapped
to my body. That's it! I was still wearing the bustier
I wore with my dress from the day before. It was covered
with metal hooks! I explained the whole story to the
security guard and finally she sent me off.
Could I make it? Running as fast as I could to the
gate, I thought we were doomed. My husband was still
waiting for me. We were going to miss the flight, and
it's all my fault. As I arrived to the gate, they were
getting ready to shut it. We made it! My husband's begging
and pleading paid off. We walked on to the plane, packed
with people giving us dirty looks. We didn't care, we
made it and now we were officially on our honeymoon!
We should have known that the perfect wedding day wouldn't