What’s for dinner? Where are you going out for dinner? Dinner, dinner, dinner. Everyone says “dinner” as if it adds some layer of fancy to the casserole coming out of the oven. But dinner used to mean lunch and supper was the real highlight of the day. Supper eaters build life around the table, with friends and family, cornbread and sweet tea. 

Married nearly sixty-years, my Mamaw and Papaw were certainly supper eaters. On any given night you could find a crowd of us randomly gathered in their tiny kitchen. A coconut cake on the table, cousins playing together in front of the tv, babies chasing after cats, and Papaw picking on Mamaw. Smells and smiles abundant in all of the best ways.

Somewhere lost in translation is our appreciation for the simple. We want to present an image of having a lot of things, so many things in fact that we boast about what all we can get rid of. Our friendships would be non-existent if it weren’t for smartphones and social media. And we have quit sitting down to meals at the table, instead eating in the car on the way to the next place we have to be.

The opposite is true for those who eat supper. Supper eaters live life at a slower pace. Their closets may be disorganized and overflowing, but it’s from years of careful purchases that were both necessary and meaningful. They make time to call friends and visit with them face-to-face. And best of all, they sit down to supper. The meal isn’t rushed, and the only thing that would make it better is if you were there with them.

When Mamaw moved to the nursing home and we cleaned out the house they had shared, I quickly realized that their life was full not because of all the things she and Papaw had (and believe me, there were butter bowls and coffee cans in every nook), but because of the relationships they had built. As we sorted pictures and piles of cards, each marked with words of adoration and thankfulness from both old and new friends, along with love-filled notes between the two of their hearts; it was obvious that they had spent their time caring for others. 

I want to be a supper eater. I want to spend time growing meaningful, real-life relationships, and writing love letters. So much can grow wildly and abundantly from what seems like such a small love. Mamaw and Papaw’s love has grown from two to twenty-six upon my most recent count. To me that is a tableful of legacy worth leaving behind.

I want to extend a personal note of thanks to Avery Forrest, the wonderful vendors, and all of the sweet folks who came together to make this very special editorial come to life for the pages of Book 1. These images not only hold memories from evenings of my own childhood (and hopefully some of yours too), but encompasses the purpose of The Southeastern Bride. A marriage is so much more than two people; it is a legacy and testament to life. I am grateful each day to share in providing meaningful inspiration to brides-to-be. I don't take that duty lightly. And seriously, thank you to the guys and gals who joyfully donned fall clothes in the middle of an Alabama July and sat in front of a fire-pit to make this vision a reality. And of course to Mamaw & Papaw who taught me that marriage is laughter.
Thank you thank you thank you! -Casey