I’ve know the Future Mrs. H (FMH) since I was 8. She was a 3rd grade newcomer by way of Texas. I remember meeting her and thinking I’d like to put her in my pocket and carry her around with me everywhere. Over the 20 years that followed (writing that out loud makes me feel incredibly old) we became the best of friends. Although life would physically separate us (she did a short stint in Texas during high school, and I went to college in Jersey) we remained close and could always catch up where we left off.
On a girly excursion in July of 2004, we visited Florida and I linked us up with our old grammar school bud, Mr. H. He’d left our school in the 6th grade, and although they’d lost touch, I stayed in contact with him. A romantic connection ensued between them and a year later she was moving to Florida. It was bittersweet: she was in love and happy…but moving too far away for me to crash on her couch and blab about my boy drama. As always though, our friendship endured. So when she and Mr. H got engaged on July 4th 2009, people immediately began asking me “Are you her maid of honor?” Truth was I had no idea.
If I were married tomorrow (insert huge laugh here) I would, without a doubt, make FMH my MOH; not only is she my best friend but my oldest. However, I knew I wasn’t FMH’s only choice. She has another best friend, Mel, and she has cousins with whom she is very close. The answer was far from crystal clear. And so began the running joke amongst my close friends and family who knew of the situation.
I tried finding out indirectly by asking the names of her bridal party for, you know, the wedding website and stuff. But FMH wasn’t in wedding planning mode yet and told me she’d get back to me. My boyfriend concocted the outrageous idea of asking FMH if I was the MOH because he wanted to throw an MOH party for me. When I told him no such tradition existed he contemplated starting it anyway. After several months had passed, even my mom was ready to play detective for me. I told them to all relax, that I’d be happy with whatever she chose to do…Wouldn’t I?
Now it’s March, eight months later and I was heading to Florida for the initial wedding weekend where FMH told us she’d make all wedding announcements. I arrived in not so sunny South Florida on Wednesday. FMH and Mel picked me up at the airport and immediately we headed to eat and drink. What better way to start off the weekend activities? After feeling like cougars at Fat Tuesdays (it’s Spring Break and no one is a day over 21) we headed to do more “adult” things (i.e. try on bridesmaid dresses.) There’s an entertaining video I will post later this week. Traditionally the MOH wears a dress different from all the others. So it was here I thought I might get my answer. FMH immediately announced she would like all four of us to wear different styles, just same material and color. Well there went that clue.
With each dress that clung to my butt or fell off my chest, I became more and more distracted by the “what ifs”. What if I were only a bridesmaid? Would I be ok with that? And if I wasn’t, could I hide the disappointment? Could I evoke my first Academy award-winning performance?! By time we reached her house I was ready to pull my metaphorical calla lilies from their roots!
In her living room, FMH brought me a small bag. “A gift for you,” she smiled. I opened up the small red bag and this is what I pulled out:
Talk about finding a cute way of asking me! (Now let’s just forget those gray hairs I sprouted in the interim.) Of course I said yes with a hug and then realized Mel was a Matron not a Maid since she’d been married. Duh, Lauren!
Guessing games now aside, the rest of the planning began. And when FMH’s cousin Felice produced a laundry list of things that need to be done prior to the wedding I realized not only how glad I am to not be planning my own wedding (it’s f’in chaotic!) but how much happier I am to be planning it for my BFF FMH as MOH 
