This moment stands out the most about my wedding day. Surrounded inside that tunnel of family and friends, I stood utterly amazed at the sheets of confetti that rained down on me and my groom. It was as though time slowed down for just five seconds. And I knew she was there with us.
This confetti, you see, came from dozens of cascarones made by my late grandmother. Making confetti-filled eggs was her most precious pastime. The woman didn’t knit or do crosswords. Her lifetime hobby was making the brightly colored cascarones to sell at Easter time. When she passed away two years ago at 91 on the night before Easter Sunday, there were cartons upon cartons of the little gems left over. (I like to think she made it home just in time to celebrate with her creator. Perhaps she cracked one of her favorite “watermelon red” cascarones over some other angel’s halo.)
Last winter, Mr. Wonderful asked me to marry him and I imagined our wedding. More specifically, I imagined the send-off celebration. I knew we had to break out those hand-painted eggs full of her hand-cut confetti. I wasn’t quite sure how we were going to pull it off, but Mom promised she’d get five dozen cascarones to our destination wedding in Mexico.
I crossed my fingers the delicate shells would go unscathed as airport baggage handlers tossed luggage onto a plane headed from Austin to Cabo San Lucas. I held my breath knowing Mom would have to get them through Mexican customs. As “animal products,” would they be considered agriculture and therefore prohibited and confiscated? This very important tribute to my grandmother rested on a game of red light, green light.
And then, GREEN.
We did it. SHE did it. And it was positively magical.