It’s wedding day for Hilarey & Lewis. After their lovely personalized ceremony and loading up on amazing hor doerves all made by Rick of Slice fame, impromptus photo sessions are commenced. First all the Ball women gather on the lawn, then inspiration commands that the guys be pressed to do the same. Marie is at the ready to be in every picture. As you can see from the photo the younger guys are a little less enthused.
Then we go for the big kahuna. All Balls all the time (with a handful of Desjardins and one Onstad added in for good measure). This involves nineteen of many ages. We assemble. We pose. Wait. Stop. “Lewis, where is your bride?” Hilarey is missing. She was just here. We all look around. The guests on the deck look around. No one sees Hilarey. Of course she must be in the photo. No one budges. No one sighs much less grumbles. We are at the ready. Still no Hilarey. Stephen decides that we should call her since no one can find her. “Hilarey,” we call out in pathetic non-unison.
“C’mon, we can do better,” Stephen urges. We try again. Still unison eludes us. “Y’all,” Stephen laughs, “We can do this. One more time.”
This time we are spot on. And she appears at the top of the stairs mouthing, “Bathroom.” Negotiating her dress explains her disappearance for so long. But no one in our group has broken rank or complained. Andrew has made a quick dash for the stroller to get M&M’s to bribe PJ but that doesn’t count. Even if he does disappear just when we find Hilarey. “Now where’s Andrew?” is quickly answered as he reappears as fast as he left.
And this is just one thing I love about our family. We give room. We give support. We acknowledge each other’s individuality. Which is sometimes pretty close to quirky. But regardless we are always there for each other. Always.