deniseKEAcreative

the crying towel was passed at the rehearsal celebration as loved ones stood one by one to openly express deep feelings for anna and paul. ron now in remission for 13 months shared stories of his little girl so vivid the room was restored to tears of laughter. HOWEVER; the bride would NOT be left unheard and reveled a secret pact made with God as her father struggled to thrive during an operation that was taking far longer than any expected. through a veil of tears the young woman repeated the promise made; that if her daddy would be granted a second chance, she would freely trade to live out the rest of her life without a mate. Father God had a greater plan for this little one.

on june 13th at 2:11pm ron walked his daughter down the aisle, placed her trembling hand into the safety of her husband paul's for safe keeping, and quietly slid into the pew next to neva.  from her perch in the sound booth the photographer noted the sweetest  smiles gently lit the room. all is well. happy father's day

neva has just completed MOB boot camp. anna's wedding is fast approaching and realizing that while yes, one has earned 5 star status as "martha jo", we just can't pull off a wedding all by our lonesomes. it takes a village to make a wedding happen. now happily delegating tasks to fellow MOB comrades, anna and the nazarenes: the event of the year, will be fully engaged from deployment to exit strategy according to the sacred books of martha and maryjane on june 13th.

on june 14th neva will return to living the life of the farm girl in all of us.

“Amanda!” the mother called through the wind towards a defiant who had traveled too far from the family beach blanket to play.

“aMANDa!” the six year old looked up; annoyed that her sandy architectural project had been disturbed by such persistent adult supervision.

“AMANDA; come closer!”

She planted one foot, then the next to brace against the tropical breezes that unfurled strawberry colored ringlets freely across her sun freckled face. Arms sparkling with sand crossed tightly against her chest, the little general had prepared to defend the shell encrusted fort to the last.

“A-MAN-DA!”…

“I’ll go get her,”  Father reassured jogging lightly away from the family’s blanketed territory leaving behind on the front lines a toddler boy  who was analytically dissecting every nuance of this act of obstinance.

“Amanda,” Mother sighed, and with her heart full she smiled in reminiscence at the tiny rebel force as he crossed over her border lines, successfully marking the end of her coup de grâce.
Happy Mother’s Day ~denise