There were some garden friendly days this week. There was no need to haul out the hoses. The sky did my work for me.

I noticed a woman walking with an umbrella, not as smiley as she sometimes is. Like in her wedding pictures from a year ago. Her photo shoot was spilling over with flowers, and laughter, a creamy dress and of course her man. But today she seemed less than cheerful, as if trudging to work in the pelting rain was not her first choice. 

Back on her Day, she was the epicenter of everyone. Her mother. Her sisters. Her bridesmaids. Their friends. Everyone was keen on granting her merest wish and the thrill of unabashed attention showed on her face. 

This day was different. The cars whizzing past had no regret in splashing the puddles across her jeans. Other people on the path were focused on managing their own umbrellas and paid her no mind. 

I had somewhere to go, but I ached to roll down the window and call to her. 

"I remember! You were beautiful! You still are!"

Is it a set up for disappointment? The throng of doting guests at your wedding can never be repeated. The avalanche of generous gifts doesn't happen again, ever. 

It is possible that the wave of adoring admirers, dare I say it, gets old. Movie stars who hide behind dark glasses and enter the studio through the back door seem to think so. Most of us even have a saturation point for possessions, however gaily wrapped. 

A friend recently broke the white bowl she had received for a wedding gift three decades ago. The shards on her counter made her cry. But it was not the lack of attention that grieved her. It was the loss of a bowl that helped her become a pie maker. Cradled her potato salads and popcorn. Moonlighted (upside down) as a cover for birthday cakes.

It sounds like the chance to serve a slice of warm apple pie, or a scoop of potato salad are more sustaining even than a wedding reception, however lavish. And as God would have it, we have that chance every single day. Rain or shine.