THE NOTEBOOK, PAGE 11

A Letter for the Matron of Honor


Dear Margot,

Hi, it’s Mom! I will assume I’m talking to you here and not Finn or Autumn or some other friend that Jenna has made after I’m gone. If you and Jenna have had a falling out-if you, for example, fought over who was to inherit my copy of Rumours signed by Mick Fleetwood and Lindsey Buckingham, or my brand-new set of gardening tools from Smith & Hawken, get over it. Kiss and make up. You, Margot, need to stand at your sister’s side. She was there for you in Antigua, remember, and she was in the delivery suite for the birth of both boys. You are so lucky to have a sister. I only had cousins, which wasn’t really the same thing.

My cousin Astrid served as my maid of honor. We were very close, but she tended to be flighty, and in the days leading up to my wedding she was hormonal and cranky and more concerned about the pimple on her chin than anything else. I was worried I had chosen the wrong person-my cousin Linda was more steadfast-but on the day of, Astrid shone brightly, I am happy to say.

Here are some thoughts on how you can help your sister on the day of the wedding:

Maintain her bouquet. Hold it for her when it needs holding. Keep track of it when she sets it down.

Have Kleenex at the ready, an emery board, dental floss, Band-Aids, tampons, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick.

Know the schedule.

Make sure she always has a glass of champagne.

Make sure she eats! I didn’t get a single bite of food at my reception at the Quilted Giraffe, something I’ve always regretted.

Accompany her to the ladies’ room.

Tell her she’s beautiful when she smiles. You both are. My beautiful girls.

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