A phone call a short bit later revealed that only one tent was on site and the two guys from the rental company that were lounging around had no information about when the rest of the equipment would arrive. I’m not sure if even Jim could describe the frenzy of activity that took place during the next 5 hours. He’d never set up a large pavilion tent, but he pulled the scraggly workers into a team as the equipment arrived in pieces, gave orders and turned into the “working machine” that he’s respectfully called by those who have worked with and for him.
As the afternoon progressed, our nervous bride kept trying to see the reception site from the carriage house where she and her attendants were preparing, but thankfully, the view was obscured by trees as I continually reassured her that everything was looking fantastic. I’d brought Jim’s suit with me when I came out, as it was clear that there would be no time to return to the hotel for a shower. He sponged off and changed with minutes to spare before the guests arrived.
Despite the distant sound of hammering during the ceremony in the garden, the reception went off beautifully and very few people knew the feat that Jim had pulled off that day. We didn’t even tell Jessica the details until weeks later. I shudder to think of what could have happened had he not been uniquely equipped to handle the challenge. (Incidentally, that vendor was never allowed to be on that site again.) As it was, the day was remarkable – the memory still stirs my emotions deeply.
This story so clearly depicts my husband’s role as protector, provider and one who loves us without measure. He doesn’t talk a lot, (I do quite enough for both of us), but he has faithfully shown us through his actions for the 29 years he’s been a father that we are the most important thing on earth to him.