Picture Perfect

A bowl of flowers and a photo from a simpler time replace night stand clutter.

Picture perfect.

Those two words kept running through my mind as I prepared our house and gardens for my brother's wedding and reception on Saturday. As I worked through each room, I felt like a zealous dermatologist eliminating pimples, blackheads and unsightly wrinkles. I was ridding the world (or at least my house and yard) of imperfections one flaw at a time.

The night stands in our bedroom were prime offenders. A pitcher of water, a half-filled (or was it half empty?) glass, a box of Kleenex, a dozen prescription medicines and TV remote control littered the top while newspapers, magazines and books filled the bottom shelf. It looked like a collision between a pharmacy and a book store. I cleared the debris on both stands and replaced it with simple ceramic pots overflowing with variegated leaves from our garden and fresh hydrangeas and mums.

I swapped an old dresser for an antique armoire that had been taking up residence in Cynthia's room for the last decade. With its rich bird's eye grain, cavernous hanging space and full length mirror, it was the perfect bridal accessory.

Room for storing bridal party finery inside and reflection for primping outside

Like an aging actress preparing for high definition TV, our bedroom was ready for the scrutiny of a camera.

But then a funny thing happened. Families flooded in and chaos ensued. A two-year-old flower girl transformed into a princess, but refused to wear her ballet slippers. Three other small boys streamed in and out . The bride and bridal party slipped into their dresses and fussed with hair and makeup. The bed became cluttered with clothing, coat hangers and makeup, with a small space left for a sleeping five-month-old baby boy. And, once again, my night stands runneth over. It was a glorious mess.

Through it all, two photographers clicked away. The room had been stripped of its picture perfection and replaced with more interesting qualities: life, emotion and depth.

The whole experience made me realize how hard I work at attempting to put on a picture perfect facade in my own life. Sometimes I fear what lies beneath the surface, and other times I fear that there's nothing beneath. But during the worst of my recent illness, I was completely stripped of veneer. I looked sick and acted sicker. I had no energy, talking was tiring and I was content to do nothing for hours at a time. I could barely put on my clothing, let alone put up a front.

In short, I was a mess and the worst possible company. I could only take and had nothing to give. But, to my surprise and delight, friends still wanted to spend time with me and care for me. I am still so touched by this fact.

The beautiful flower arrangements on my night stands will soon fade and clutter will no doubt take its place. My energy is returning and I feel myself slipping back into attempting to put on the picture perfect front. When I become overwhelmed with the self-imposed expectations, I'll remember the chaos in our bedroom and remind myself that the most interesting shots are the real (and sometimes messy) ones. And that my friends will be my friends regardless.