As we both lay naked in our thoughts, our hearts open, he would look into my eyes, hold my face with his hand, and gently whisper in my ear—

“The flowers! Would you take these damn flowers?!”

Why would he say that?

“Montana, I swear, if you don’t take these damn flowers!”

Uh oh. It appears I had drifted off so long I not only missed my mother’s stroll down the aisle, but I had also missed her several attempts at trying to relieve herself of her bouquet of flowers so that she could begin taking her vows.

“What is wrong with you?” She said, obviously irritated. “And what happened to your dress? And put your gloves back on! You’ll ruin my photo album.”

Okay, back to reality. This day had absolutely nothing to do with me. This was all about her and well, it should be. It’s her day.

“Do you, Catherine Oleta Moore, take yet another man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold…”

As the words rang out and her response affirmed, she was married once again. Like a river, down the aisle she went, flowing out the doors and into her future. I couldn’t help but cheer. She was the Babe Ruth of betrothal. And no matter how many times she struck out, my mother would fearlessly step to the plate again, expecting another home run.

For a moment that same tear that had earlier crept its way into my ducts reappeared, only this time, like Toni Braxton, I let it flow. Let it flow, let it flow, let it flow. The deed had been done. My mother was a bride for the fifth time.

“Montana…” It was Pastor Pendleton. “Are you all right?” Noticing the obvious flow of tears, he could see I was in an emotional state and, like a loving shepherd sensitive to the needs of his flock, he offered warm and loving words of comfort to a hurting sheep.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you, Pastor. But what about the flowers? I still have them. She’ll need them for the ceremonial toss.”

“Montana,” he said with a look of conviction, “I want you to hold onto those flowers like you hold onto God’s unchanging hand. There ain’t a person on God’s green earth that I can think of who can use the luck of the bride’s bouquet more than you.”

As the words eased from his mouth, I felt the last tear stop in midstream. No he did not just say what I thought he said. “Excuse me?”

“I said keep the flowers. Now, go in peace and sin no more.” After making a sign of the cross, he strode ahead down the aisle.