Now what?

As I stand there in doorway the expectant silence forces me to turn and face the shattered remains of my wedding cake top. The people in line, formerly eager to make their purchases and leave, are now patiently awaiting my reaction. Some appear sympathetic, some look ready to dive under the counter in the event I start throwing things, and others shift awkwardly from left foot to right with their eyes downcast. Doug, the young clerk who dropped my cake top, is staring at the shards of porcelain, his face red from embarassment. "I'm so sorry! The box just opened up and it fell out. I'm so sorry! I'll see if we can order you another one. I know it won't be the same, but...I'm so sorry!" His speech is rushed and he seems to be in genuine pain as he awaits my response.

Memories of my wedding day briefly fill my thoughts before I respond. It was a perfect summer day and the historic church was surrounded by hydrangea bushes in full bloom. The sky was clear and bluer than I had ever seen it. This was the day I had waited so long for and it couldn't have been more perfect. Standing in the back of the church waiting for the music that would signal me to start down the aisle, I knew I would treasure these memories in my heart forever. Dad was able to walk me down the aisle. Though his cancer was eating away at him, on this particular day he seemed full of life and energy. "It's every father's dream for his daughter to marry a man like Roger," mom said when I commented on how good dad looked that day.

At the end of the aisle, dad handed me over to my three grown sons who would give me away to the only man they had approved of their mom dating. "You look beautiful, Mom," my youngest whispered in my ear as he hugged me. "I love you, Mom." "Love you, Mom. I hope he makes you very happy."

After leaving the church we went to the reception and I felt like I was in a dream. I found myself dancing to the chicken dance even though I specifically remember telling the DJ not to play it. I don't think I stopped dancing once except when we cut the cake...

"You know what, Doug? It's okay. It's only a thing, and things can be replaced. I'm not angry. Call me if you can't find another one, and I'll do some searching on the Internet." "I know it won't be the same. I'm really sorry." "It's okay. Really."

And as I left the bakery, I knew that it really was okay.