Her dress swung with promises of love and forever while her daughters twirled its train in an out-of-focus blur. With Jack Daniels in her shot glass and her hair curled and sprayed, the bride toasted with her sisters, laughed, and hid her beer while I took a picture.

Watching her mother lean against the groom, the bride's daughter wiped away tears and said, if you can't deal with her at her worst, then you don't deserve her at her best.

I shot the wedding and left them in a hall filled with people who would love them forever or until the day ended or until the next fight, and wondered how many people had heard her daughter's little, muffled, tear-soaked words.

I looked at the photos later and watched the groom's face -- a face I knew -- and was sure they would last.