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Once we got to Glacier, the weekend rushed by.

It seemed like all sensory input had a hard time making an imprint on my brain. It was hard to remember what people had told me five minutes later; it was hard to stop and take in the weekend. I tried to make time for all 100 friends and family, and in the end felt I didn't get enough time with any of them.
Staying up drinking until the wee hours of the morning Thursday night didn't help; certainly it made dealing with Friday morning tough. But mostly, the sensation was caused by the sheer amount of details and people to deal with. I didn't feel particularly stressed most of the time, but I did occasionally feel overloaded.

I probably didn't have to be. Most of the details were taken care of by others; our extended families took on several chores, and our friends pitched in with free labor whenever we asked. But since I had dealt with setting up much of the logistics and plans I felt I had to at least check on most of it (and Kirsten helped with some of the details I forgot to check on).

In the end there were no major crises, and everything went well. When it was all finished, I just realized I had very little grasp on individual memories of the event. I can pick them out if I try, but the overall impression on my memory is one big blur.