Story One: Turns Out, I’m a Relic

I love learning and like to think I’m a reasonably intelligent person. But recently, I’ve come to grips with a humbling truth: when it comes to modern weddings, my knowledge is laughably outdated. Like… dial-up internet outdated.

My oldest daughter, Karly, met Zaine at college a few years ago and got engaged in November 2024. Naturally, as a detail-loving, clipboard-carrying enthusiast of all things organized, I took it upon myself to become the unofficial wedding coordinator. I was excited. Giddy. Ready to roll. I encouraged them to pick a date and promptly informed them that they’d be getting married at our church—where Karly was dedicated as a baby and baptized as a new believer.

And then… crickets.

Now, my kids ignoring my texts and calls isn’t exactly breaking news. I’ve been labeled a “helicopter mom” once or twice—or fifty times—but I’ve really been working on backing off since the older two flew the nest. Still, in a fit of excitement (and maybe a touch of denial), I started a group text with my sister Kim (my only sibling—she’s four years older and just a smidge bossy), Karly, and my middle daughter Presley (the obvious MOH, a role she’s been training for since toddlerhood).

Kim, who is equally thrilled about the wedding—especially since Karly is the first of our combined six kids to get engaged—jumped right in. She asked Karly where she and Zaine wanted to get married.

I, assuming there was no question, chimed in confidently:
“They’ll be married at our church, of course!”

Cue the dramatic pause.

Sometimes I suspect my daughters secretly use Kim as a buffer when I get a little too enthusiastic. Because her next message was this gentle bombshell:
“Well, Kelly, nobody gets married in churches anymore. They rent those big venues and do the ceremony and reception all in one place.”

I sat in stunned silence as her next message lit up my screen:
“Have you picked out a venue, Karly? Where do you and Zaine want to get married?”

And wouldn’t you know it—Karly responded. Instantly. After ignoring my texts for an entire day, she practically sent Kim a dissertation.

She had three venues in mind. Three! And not one of them was our church. In fact, they were all at least two-and-a-half to three hours from our little hometown.

My fingers flew across my screen like a courtroom lawyer presenting Exhibit A:
“Why wouldn’t you get married in your church? That’s always been the plan!”

…My plan. At least.

So there I was—staring at my phone, grappling with the fact that wedding planning in 2025 looks nothing like it did in 1995. Or even 2015. I had to accept that my little girl isn’t so little anymore… and that maybe, just maybe, she has her own ideas about this whole getting-married thing. It turns out, this wallflower mom has a lot of growing to do, too. I may not be center stage, but I’m still rooted in the corner—watching, praying, and adjusting my expectations one group text at a time.

More to come. Bring snacks.