The Heart of the Matter
It is in the bag...

The Runaway Guests

I carried the box with a slight sense of trepidation.  I knew that something might go wrong.  The invitations have been carefully resting in the Cranes box for several days now - stamped, stuffed, and ready to go, and all the while I have been waiting for the perfect moment to send them out to our guests.  They were going to fly off to exotic locations like Pasadena, London, Granada, and the Canary Islands.  Lucky little invites...

I questioned whether I should put them in the blue post box at the end of the street or be a bit more official about it and walk into an actual post office and mail them there.  I double checked each an every invitation for the proper postage, I had already placed a hidden number on the response card that would correspond to a huge spreadsheet that I created on the off chance someone decided to RSVP without indicating their name.  The labels were measured - yes MEASURED to the 3/8 of an inch- on each and every envelope.  All of the details that needed to be taken care off were checked off of that grand wedding list that people everywhere use.  And with all of that behind us, I felt confident, although a bit nervous, that all 69 of the invitations could finally go into the mail and make their trip.  And that is when it happened.

I walked down my street, the invitations safely tucked away in a box, the box neatly placed in a bag, and there were 3 buses slowly making their way down Washington Street.  I could have taken any one of the three buses, and I decided to pick up my pace and reach the bus.  Not more than 6 steps into my attempt to make the bus there was an explosion, a bang, and cream colored Cranes envelopes scattered all over the ground., no no.  This could not be happening.  Everything just stopped.  I heard some laughing from across the street, and 3 or 4 people just walked right by me as if I did not even exist.  My wedding invitations were strewn around the sidewalk, and no one cared except for me.  Why should they?  The event really mean nothing to them.  I ran back and forth trying to pick up the pieces and pull myself together. Luckily not ALL of the invitations hit the ground, and as I frantically picked these treasures up, and young man cam over and helped me.  I wanted to start sobbing and say "Do you know what these are?  These are my wedding invitations.  You are helping me with my wedding!" But I doubted that it would really matter that much to him at all.  I thanked him profusely for his good deed, and he offered me a smile.  It was a smile that I needed more than anything at that moment, because at that moment it was really the last thing that I could manage to do.  

It was very much a moment from some kind of film that might star Reese Witherspoon or Jennifer Lopez or perhaps Sandra Bullock as the leading lady. Except if it was a movie and if it did happen to them, it would be very different.  You see if it was a movie they would have sat and cried, they would probably NOT be marrying the man they really and truly loved (which is what is happening in my instance) and they would end up falling in love with the man who helped them pick up the invitations.

At the end of it all, I collected myself (and the invitations) and brought the invitations to the post office.  I counted them all one by one.  68.  There were 68 out of 69.  One was missing.  I will make another, I have already requested a new label from our designer, I already know to whom I need to send the missing invitation.  Perhaps they will receive 2 invitations, perhaps only 1.  I hope the runaway guest ends up finding its way to a proper post box and home...



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Lily, I wish I could hug you from here! You put so much thought into those invitations and each is identified as the person it was addressed to. Numbering the response cards was a brilliant idea! I wish you and Hector much happiness.

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