A Very Special Wedding Cake

My sister came to my rescue by telling me she'd bake my wedding cake. After 5 years of being a widow, I was getting married again. At first, we'd thought we'd have a small wedding, but that soon grew to more than 125 guests. Little did I know how much the picture of that wedding cake would stay in my mind and heart forever. It had been so long since I'd planned a wedding. I knew I was going to have fun and make special memories.

Two days before the wedding my sister came zooming up my driveway with a smile on her face and her van filled to the brim. She'd packed cake pans and some special ingredients, serving dishes and her recipe book. She had luggage filled with her Mary Kay make-up [including some for me], work clothes and the beautiful dress she'd wear as matron of honor at my wedding. She did everything from help make 4 huge bowls of pasta salad, scrub the kitchen floor to making the most beautiful cake. The frosting came out exactly the color I'd wanted.

The object I'll always remember was the cake. I held my breath when she picked up those huge cake layers and flipped them around like when I gave my babies their bath. How she did it, I don't know. They didn't break in half, crumble or slide from one side to the other. The frosting stuck on all sides and all sides were perfectly even. Her piping around the edges was perfect. I assisted by sitting on a chair with my mouth open and holding my breath. "Yes, that's just how I pictured it and it's taller than I thought it would be." Those were comments coming out of my mouth, plus a few more ahhhs.

When it was all done, she spun it around on the counter-top and we were both thrilled. She picked up that cake, plunked it on the dryer in the laundry room and said it would be just fine until we needed it.

Indeed it was. Again, on my wedding day, she picked up that cake, and set it up for display. She surrounded it with a variety of fall leaves, beads and other shiny bling, lit the candle on top and everyone ohhed and ahhed.

That cake will always be the simple object that stood for the special time and the fun we had working together. We laughed and we chatted. We even shed a tear or two. We worked in rhythm with each other. No arguments and no questioning of each other occurred. You could tell we'd learned from the same mom. We knew then that grand kids, kids, husbands, friends and extended family were giving us a gift. Maybe we'd never share that much time alone - at a happy time - again. I humbly thank you, my sister, for painting that "forever" image in my heart.