Dear Chelsea,
Please accept my very best wishes for you and Marc on your wedding day today.
You and I have never met, which explains why I wasn’t invited, though I have met your parents a time or two. Your future mother-in-law used to be a television news reporter here in my area, so I do feel a remote connection.
I’ve been a fan of yours since you arrived in Washington in 1993 at the tender age of 12. You endured undue ridicule about your appearance and later, the sex scandal of the century, with grace and maturity and without any siblings to share it with.
You grew into a beautiful woman, excelled at Stanford and landed a high caliber job. I enjoy the occasions on which you step to a podium and speak with intelligence and poise.
I trust no detail of your lovely affair has gone unattended. Just arranging all those helicopters to transport your guests to the event must have beeen a challenge.
Because we can always count on the public to jab political figures and those they love, I imagine there will be snickers about the $15,000 you are reportedly spending for Porta-Potties for your Rhinebeck affair, but then you would also take heat if you neglected to make arrangements for your guests’ comfort. Damned if you do…
I too had a ridiculously large wedding. I had no wedding planning consultant or technology to help me. I did have great parents who helped. Besides picking up the ridiculously large tab, my father picked out the dinner menu and made sure the reception venue was perfect. My mother, while not Secretary of State, arranged for all of the flowers and centerpieces and thoughtfully selected the church music (even though the church music director snubbed her requests and played what he wanted anyway). My husband and I did everything else ourselves.
I was in charge of arranging transportation for everyone. Two hours before the ceremony, I stood by to make sure our parents and the wedding party and the groom were picked up on time. When they had all left, I realized my oversight. I had forgotten to arrange transportation for myself. So I threw my wedding dress in the trunk of my car and high-tailed it to the church.
I tell you this, Chelsea, as one bride to another. It’s just something you might want to check on.
Blessings to you on your special day.
Word Nymph 