Looking back, it wasn't the bridesmaid drama that mattered.
I have no clue what flowers were in the center pieces.
I can't remember the pattern of the plates that my mom and I argued about for weeks.
And I couldn't even tell you which song the harpist played when I walked down the aisle. (All I know is it was the wrong song...)
Like many brides, I spent 15 months planning every single detail of my wedding — from the minute-by-minute timeline for wedding party pictures to the exact setup of the cocktail hour tables to the "So You're About to Sit Through a Wedding" pamphlet and program for each guest.
But two years later, I don't remember much about any of that. The things I actually remember from my wedding are the "insignificant" moments...
The brief, but oh-so-long, drive up the pebbled path to Springfield Manor.
The groomsmen gaggling out the window and waving as I stepped from the limousine.
The bagpiper tuning up beneath the shady tree out front.
Wiping a tear off my father's cheek when he first saw me in my dress.
Tapping my betrothed's shoulder for our first look, and the wave of tearful laughter when he finally turned to see me.
Wedding party selfies in a lavender field while we all pretended not to be cold. (It was 50 degrees and windy in the mountains — but anything for a good picture, right?)
The chuppah falling down in the bracing wind and one of the groomsmen literally holding it up through the whole ceremony.
Our three-year-old flower girl's voice out in the crowd, sweetly proclaiming, "Amen!" after every prayer.
My cousin handing me a glass of wine during the cocktail hour and repeating, "Have a mac and cheese ball" over and over until I finally relented and ate one.
Playing around in front of the last-minute, makeshift photo booth.
The best man pulling me in for a hug, "Come here, Mrs. Rothman," and three others piling on.
College friends blowing noisemakers in each other's faces on the dance floor.
Cheers from the late-night stalwarts and the trill of a tin whistle as we danced off to our getaway car.
And finally back in the hotel suite, chowing down on stale, leftover bagels from that morning (aka the best meal on the planet in that moment).
My point is…
You will undoubtedly have "disaster" befall you in the week leading up to your wedding. That's OK.
Your day-of timeline may fall to pieces. The ceremony could (will) have a few hiccups. Someone's toast might be too long. And at least one person will be mad that you didn't find time to talk to them amidst the chaos.
But you won't remember any of that. And if you do, you won't care.
The things you'll remember from your wedding are the little details that you never could have expected. The moments that make your wedding the beautiful, unique experience that it is.
So leave your expectations behind. Don't stress about the mishaps. Laugh as much as you can.
And you do you, boo.
Fawn believes in the power of a well-crafted story, the promise of an adventurous future, and the perfection of a Nutella-covered strawberry.