Can’t believe I didn’t have a hot dog on the fourth of July?

I guess hot dogs aren’t primarily served at weddings. Unless maybe you get married in Texas.

Anyway, my baby princess played the part of flower girl for the third time in her life. Dress rehearsal was two days before the wedding, and she has been looking forward to this day for months. The shoes! The dress! And don’t forget her star earrings and of course, Mommy just has to curl her hair. But not till the big day. Tonight is just a practice run. We’re not even wearing the shoes tonight.

As I watch Sarah walk down the aisle with her empty basket and pretend to toss petals here and there, two thoughts run through my mind. One regarding the order of the wedding procession, the other simply connected to the event. A rehearsal.

I think to myself, “What if life had a dress rehearsal?” How about for just the tough times? Would we get a chance to practice our lines, revise and rewrite—before family and friends arrive and words cannot be taken back?
But it can’t. In fact, even the rehearsal itself cannot be practiced beforehand. I remember my own wedding rehearsal, how hubby and I bumped heads over silly details. The occasion required several deep breaths and a few friends stepping in to remind us not to freak out if everything didn’t go exactly as planned. Because it wouldn’t. It never does on a wedding day.

And I recall how fourteen years ago, hubby’s tux was locked in a hotel room he couldn’t get into. I nearly tripped on my sari walking down the aisle. *Thank God for the Auntie who leaned into the aisle and whispered, “Kick your sari Rajdeep, kick and step.” Those instructions saved me from unraveling that day! What else? Hubby’s heel teetered on the edge of the stage at church as he sang to me. His brother stood below, ready for the catch if the groom took one step back. The deejay canceled the night before. The lilacs all died. And we never ate a bite at our own wedding. Besides the cake that we fed to each other. Other than that, it was perfect! Yup.

We rehearse for the basic walk through, but whether a wedding or everyday life, no one can practice facing and living through the details. There are too many unpredictables. Even when people tell you, “Expect the unexpected,” I find myself so often screaming, jaw dropped, or head shaking. Because surprises are around every corner, and very few of them involve lights going on, balloons everywhere, a room full of smiling faces and party food.

As I watch my friend Anna and her dad follow Sarah, I realize something. The flower girl always precedes the bride. And the passage of time is so vividly depicted in that moment. A little girl followed by a grown woman. Both wearing white. One tossing petals. One holding a bouquet. Walking alone, a flower girl must gather courage to fulfill her role. Alone. And then the bride follows. Usually holding onto the arm of her father, and as she makes this final journey down the path toward her groom, she gathers the courage to let go. Of her dad and her childhood.

The girls and I went to see the movie Brave a few days back. Marriage was the last thing on Merida’s mind. In fact, as the movie winds down [*Warning: spoiler alert ahead], you realize that there is no dashing prince or sealing kiss as the movie comes to a close.

I’ll be honest. I loved the character of Merida, her tomboyish personality, her outspokenness, and her unruly orange curls. She’s my kinda gal—we’re practically twins, other than the red-head factor and Scottish heritage. But the “bear” thing going on the movie left me a little disatisfied. I have been trying to pinpoint why and I finally think I know why. It was too predictable. The whole dad got attacked by a bear so mom turns into a bear and then the big bear duel at the end. I feel like I saw it coming a mile away, or a third of the way into the movie. I get that the writers wanted to incorporate Celtic folklore and the bear symbolizes strength, harmony and bravery. But even for a Disney flick, I think the screenplay needed a little more what? and a little less of course. I don’t know. It’s just my opinion. There’s still so much I loved about it.

My favorite moment in the movie is when mother and daughter can’t speak the same language *mom  is still a bear, but, using paw-cherades, they share the ephiphany moment with viewers. Merida declares that It’s okay to break with tradition, to choose love, and to follow your heart. Three actions that require courage and thus the movie is aptly named Brave.

As Sarah did her actual walk down the aisle on July fourth, the wedding day, she was a pro. Princess #4 loves the limelight. And the mother of the bride came up to me aferward to tell me how she dumped a bunch of petals right at the end when she realized she had so many left. That’s fun! And unpredictable!

So in the end, I decide I prefer life without the rehearsals and predictability, and even with the peeks and troughs, I choose to turn the next corner, open the next window, and walk through the next door. And whether or not the crowd yells surprise, I won’t run away and hide in the shower. *Ask my college roommates about that one. Okay fine, I’ll tell you since you might not ever meet them.

Back in the day, I hated surprise parties. So one year at NU, I came up with the perfect solution. I planned my own birthday party. The theme was good smells and the color of the hour was bright orange. I sent out the invites and planned the menu. And each side table in the dorm suite had fun things to sniff like orange Dial soap, orange nail polish and ….hmmm, I can’t recall what else, but anyway, it was the perfect plan. Until…and I am not making this up—each person canceled. Told me they couldn’t make it. They were busy. One had to study. Another was stuck in downtown Chicago. And still another had to clean his bike. Yes, I did say bike. One by one, my party was becoming a party of one.

Minutes before party time, I told my two remaining friends to call it off. I flopped onto my bed, face down, and had a good cry. “I have no friends” I screamed into my soaked pillow. Yeah. I was having a moment. Michelle knocked on the door and suggested that at least we drink the orange soda and peel a few tangerines since they were already bought. I wiped my face and forced myself to be a good sport. As we walked down to the suite lounge, I cursed myself for planning such a stupid party. And then as I walked out into the open area, I heard a huge “SURPRISE!!!!” from a bunch of voices! All my friends were there! Screaming, “We gotcha!!” and “Look! She’s totally shocked!” which I was. So much so, I panicked! And ran to the closest girl’s restroom, straight into a shower stall. And had my second cry of the day. I felt so scared. Of all the love that waited for me in that room. After a few deep breaths, I walked out to face the crowd. My friends. And we had such a fun evening. Dancing. Laughing. Eating orangey foods. Sniffing Dial. Yeah. My 23rd birthday is one I will never forget.

So as I was saying, when the next surprise hits me, like a snowball in the face—if I need a moment—I’ll take it. And then open my eyes and face the music. Even if it’s a sad song.

Just so thankful that I never have to face a day alone. Like a bride who walks down the aisles of life with her Heavenly Father daily. Except that I never have to let go of his arm. He holds me near him, as long as I choose to hold on. And he gives me the courage to face life. Brave. One day at a time. And that’s why I love him.

**So what about you? Do you like surprises? Remember a time when a surprise knocked you off your emotional feet? 

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