Wedding Veil

By Rebecca Thorsen / July 21, 2020

My Lovely Niece and her Happy Hubby just celebrated their First Anniversary.  Please enjoy how I was able to contribute to this joyous occasion!  

I had the honor and privilege of helping my sweet-hearted mother make my niece’s wedding veil, for the grand event to be held this summer. You see, I knew way back in the fall that the veil was going to be a gift from my mom to her granddaughter. What I didn’t know exactly was my role in this creation. That would quickly change!

And a Decision is Made

Several texts and conversations went between my sister, mother of the bride, my mother, the grandmother of the bride and myself. After hours of “I’m not sure” and “I’m sure you can”, the decision was made: I would be flying out to Washington State to assist my mother with this project. However, everything had to be planned around the winter weather in my fine State of Maine. So, after another round of texts and conversations another decision would be made: April would be the month I would fly out.

Ready, Set, Go

I was put in charge of buying the veiling, thread, and the comb that would attach the veil to the bride’s head filled with curls. I easily completed that Mission, thanks to Joann’s and their wonderful coupons. I spent the winter watching the snow fall, YouTube videos about how to make wedding veils, and Pinterest for ideas of what the veil should look like.  So, with fingers crossed, weather reports watched and Misha Bear and Misha Bear’s duck (my traveling companions) on board with my ideas, tickets to Seattle were purchased.

With my flight across country complete, and my bags collected, I was ready to finish the last leg of this trip. Usually when I travel out to Washington someone picks me up at the airport, but this time I decided to take the Whidbey SeaTac Shuttle bus for a change. Misha Bear and I were met at the curb by one of those mini shuttle buses and our trip north began.

I’m sure that when I made the bus reservation I knew we would be taking the ferry to Whidbey Island, but even so as we approached the ferry terminal my heart leapt with excitement! I love riding the ferries in Washington. I don’t know if it’s being on the water, or if it’s a matter of  “home is where the heart is” but I do know that when I’m on a ferry I feel refreshed.

The only downside was that the pair of ladies sitting behind me on the bus forgot how to use their inside voices; however, the upside was that they were the first to get off once the ferry docked. So, jelly side up, as my mother-in-law used to say.

Home is Where the Heart Is

My father was waiting for me at my drop off, and my heart sang! I should mention this white-haired gentleman will celebrate his ninetieth birthday next year, so the fact there was a slow hop out of his truck for a hug, and a kiss, and a toss of my luggage in to the back sealed a smile of pride on my face.

When we got home, I was met with a “feed me” scowl from my mom’s cat Miss Kitty and a call from the family room. My sweet petite mom is rocking a new hip and I was sure she was about to show it off, so I made a dash in there for some more hugs and kisses. I am blessed!

Whenever I go home I perform a sort of ritual:

First I hop in the car, one I have either rented or borrowed. In this case I borrowed my folks’ car; my mom said it was the least they could do since they didn’t come to pick me up. (Them not picking me up was just fine with me…please, do you remember me mentioning my dad’s big birthday coming up? Well my mother isn’t far behind him. I was raised that you don’t speak directly of a lady’s age, but you get my point!)  So, once I am in the car I am off to the town city beach, called ‘City Beach.’ Go figure! However, my return was met with a lot of changes, starting with no parking on the beach. So, off to my other favorite beach, without the parking problems.

The actual core ritual is taking deep breaths of sea air. That’s right: Deep breaths. I want as much of the tidal smells as I can get. All those beach layers; low tide, seaweed, salt water, and the sea life dead or alive. It speaks to my soul. It’s probably why I do a lot of my writing at the shoreline of my adopted home of Maine. But I digress. I will make several more trips to the other beaches on the island.

The next part of my ritual is to make a few phone calls to my local favorite people. A cup of chowder with one old friend, and a cup of tea or coffee with another. No matter what, they always make time for me. I am blessed!

The final ritual is dining at with my mom at El Cazador, the local Mexican restaurant. We always bring back something for my dad; this way he won’t miss the ‘ballgame’, and it doesn’t matter what time of year I visit… there will always be a ballgame on. Besides, the dining out is a mother-daughter thing.

Putting the Plan in Place

Now after a day of rest and goofing off it was time to get down to work… the second reason I came back home, because the first will always be to visit with my parents. I grab the bag that had all the materials and design ideas required for the veil and bring them into my mother’s sewing room, which, if you are looking for vintage fabric my mom probably has it. I realize that was a wee bit snarky, but it is true!

I got everything ready and then spent an hour doing battle with my mother’s serger (A specialized sewing machine that sews and cuts at the same time).

After another hour of trying and trying again I was getting greatly irritated. Mind you, I had already memorized the YouTube videos!  I really wanted to toss my mom’s serger out the window. I didn’t, but I wanted to, and I shared that piece of information with my father who was next door in the family room. The positive part is the fact my father is deaf, so he couldn’t hear the four-letter words that flowed freely from his genteel daughter’s mouth <img draggable=.  My mom hears just fine, though, and her ears are probably still ringing from the number of times I dropped the F-Bomb!

Putting Another Plan In Place

In the end, I looked at my mother, she looked at me, and we both took a few deep breaths and headed to the family room where I picked up my cellphone and began to search for wedding veils. That’s right: I looked for a veil made by someone that clearly knew what they were doing because they were selling them online.

A few scrolls and taps later I found the exact veil the bride-to-be wanted. I announced it to my folks and a purchase was made.

Did we cheat? Maybe. But I am certain that my niece would prefer that to the mess we made in my mother’s sewing room!

The veil was delivered to me in Maine, where I checked it over for any lost threads and sewed in loving words from my mother to her beautiful bride of a granddaughter. The bride received the veil and I received a lovely thank you note with her love and appreciation of the not-so-hand-made gift from the matriarch of her family.

A month later the bride and veil were a vision of beauty.      

About the author

Rebecca Thorsen


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