The most exciting part of The Wedding, apart from The Wedding of course, was pictures. For the first time in eight years all eight of us (me, Dave & our six kids) were in the exact same place, at the exact same time. Not just that, I also had my mom, my dad and both my sisters. And, the cherry on top, my new daughter-in-law. As a photography nut, as the documenter of All The Things, a memory keeper, I was over-the-moon excited to have some family portraits.

Lindsay and I had searched together for the best photographer in the Ohio area, and Jess of Klodt Photography stood out by far. Her images weren’t just technically perfect, but she manages to capture the emotions and feelings so beautifully. I loved her work the minute I clicked on her website, and I squealed out loud when she was available for the wedding date.

I looked forward to not just the wedding photo’s, but “my” photo’s. A last capture of my family of eight, and a first capture of my family of nine, and one of the family of five that started it all. For me, this was a dream come true. Icing on the cake. Wedding & photo’s. Heaven!

From the day I arrived in the States, until the day of the wedding, my hair misbehaved. My gorgeous, sleek, newly-colored ‘do was a ragged, tumbleweed mess. I panicked & panicked & bought half a beauty supply store in new product. Nothing worked. And then. Then, the day of the wedding, my hair suddenly behaved and looked gorgeous. I was soooooo proud!

You know what they say… pride comes before the fall. And let me tell you, I fell. I fell hard. Literally. We’d finished family photo’s, I’ll share some our friend Conrad took with my camera, and I can’t wait to see the official portraits! Oh, I so can’t wait. While Jess set-up for some additional shots with Soren and the groomsmen, my parents & sisters & I walked over to another spot under the willow trees by the waters edge.

I was happy, giggling, with my family, hair perfect, and suddenly “CRACK”! We all heard it. I heard it. And down I went. I executed a perfect tuck & roll, in my fancy dress, and came to a rest on a soft bed of grass. I’d broken my leg.

Now, I’m a baby. I hate pain. I’m a drama queen when it comes to pain. I hoped, knowing in my heart-of-hearts it was futile, that I was faking it and my hair was perfect. In my vanity, I propped up my head with my hand and stayed on the ground in a model-like pose. I calmly tol all the people looking at me, half in horror, half in laughter:

“I broke my leg. I need a splint.” I was met with skeptiscm, and soon ice. My mother brought a big bag out of the room, and placed in on my left leg.

“Wrong leg mom.” She didn’t believe me. She argued with me that it was my left leg that was swelling and turning blue. Was I sure. I was sure. Soon Gervasi (Winery) personnel came with a wheelchair and scissors, my beautiful shoes were cut off my feet, the swelling & pain too great for me to bear anyone pulling on the buckles to unstrap them.

I begged for a splint, every breeze hurt my leg, but EMTs were on their way. In fact, they were there within minutes. While EMTs can’t diagnose, they were very insistent they take me to the hospital. I was more insistent. There was no way I flew half a planet only to miss Soren & Lindsay’s wedding.

They made me sign a release. They couldn’t give me pain-killers, but they did splint my leg and reluctantly left me there. At the wedding. The much delayed wedding. I felt so terrible. So awful.

I was wheeled into the front and had a gorgeous up close view of Soren & Lindsay taking their vows. My sister, their aunt, was the “Offici-aunt” and did an absolutely beautiful job of marrying them. Joe, Lindsay’s dad, and I sobbed our way through most of it. Watching your child get married to the love of their life is a precious, joyful, amazing moment. Nothing. Nothing, not even a broken leg marred that moment.

I managed to stay for the first hour of the reception. I didn’t miss the grand entrace of the bridal couple, the speeches, or even the first dance! And then? Then the pain overwhelmed. My dad & his best friend Bill loaded me into Bill’s rental car… a top-of-the-line, uber-sporty, loud, Dodge Charger.

In my fancy car, with my two black-suited bodyguards, I was the mystery of the Canton, OH emergency room. Why I didn’t take a selfie of that, is beyond me. The looks & whispers made my pain bearable, if only briefly.

Sadly I soon found out that my fibula was not just broken, but splintered broken. My tibia was dislocated. I needed surgery. What I got was an open cast (plaster on three sides, open at the top) and lots of gauze and padding and percocet.

American Airlines was amazing and quickly, easily, efficiently changed our tickets so I had bulk head seating. I had wheelchair transportation curb-to-curb, terminal-to-terminal. And while the flight was hard, American made it as easy as possible under the circumstances. I went straight from the airport to the hospital and I was the first in surgery the next morning.

I am now the proud owner of half a hardware store, all neatly stored in my right ankle. I have six weeks of no-weight-bearing. Six weeks that may just be all bedrest, unless the swelling gets under control. Luckily I can work laying down. Nick (my 2nd oldest) reconfigured my office.

I now have a bed by my desk, my desktop is on a rolling night stand and my keyboard in on my lap. My wireless mouse is rolling away on a hardback copy of Harry Potter. I have everything I need in 10 sf room. I can do this.

Posing like a model… my hair looked good! I was so hoping.

Canton Fire & Rescue were awesome!

Front & center at the wedding.

The hardware.