This past weekend my little brother got married. It was a fabulous affair in Palm Springs with all the glam and flare these two beautiful people deserve. I have come to love my new sister-in-law as a sister, indeed, and I was honored to stand with them as a bridesmaid and give a reading that was actually a writing taken from their own words. There were many toasts and lots of pictures and endless laughter and shared stories and memories. But my favorite picture of the night was taken in a vulnerable moment behind the scenes. Lauren's bustle had broken just before dancing was to commence. My mother had just given a toast that I felt conflicted about at best, but mostly just raw. I was leaving the bathroom and ran into my Aunt Gail, down on two knees trying to fix Lauren's dress. I joined her in the pulling and tying and fixing and just then, Scott, perhaps my oldest friend in life, (and really more like family than friend) was walking back into the ballroom and snapped this shot. My Aunt Gail was the woman in mine and my brother's lives who stepped in when my mom had to step out. So much of the kind of woman I became was shaped by "Growing up Guenther" - spending weeknights and weekends at Gail's house with her four boys, my cousins who are more like brothers. This picture captures all of us in our element, but most importantly it captures the kind of family values I was raised with - teamwork, service, and laughter.