You know those pictures of mother and daughter on her wedding day? The ones where mother lovingly dresses her daughter. Buttoning her gown. Tying her bow. Pinning her hair.

And the mother. She’s as beautiful as she’s ever been. Except for maybe the day she got married.

That’s what I said when I was shopping for my mother of the bride dress with Em. “I want to be as beautiful as I’ve ever been.” The day my only daughter would marry.

I’d been mother of the groom just a month before. I wanted to be pretty that day too. But it was the bride’s day and her mother’s first. So I subdued my dress choice. Nothing too noticeable. Just the demure momma of that guy.

But not this day!

When I found the dress, it was just like I’d dreamed. Watercolor flowers, a flouncy waist, perfect!

Em’s wedding was a community affair. And I was involved with almost every part. My timetable on the day of the wedding went through numerous revisions.

And those pictures I mentioned? The ones where I’m supposed to look my most beautiful? Yeah, those. They got forgotten around the third revision. Somewhere between the last touches in the reception area and on my way to grab a shower and get beautiful, my friend found me.

“Em wants you to come help her get dressed.”

“Dressed?” As my mind checked off tasks, I was confused as to why my daughter needed me to help her dress. She’d been quite adept at doing it on her own for many years.

“She wants you to button her gown and get pictures.”

Those pictures. The ones I’m supposed to be beautiful for because this is the day my only daughter gets married. Those.

Sweaty, pony tail, no makeup, floral tee and shorts weren’t exactly what I had in mind.

But some beautiful things I didn’t plan to wear were there.

Like the love in our eyes, the hands that held and caressed, the embrace we’ve shared since the day they first put her in my arms.

It was the most beautiful day of my life. Maybe even more beautiful than my own wedding day.

I’m learning that a lot of days are like that. Perfectly planned, imperfectly executed, and often better than I imagined. It’s teaching me to hold loosely to my plans and embrace whatever comes.