The hospital family waiting room didn’t usually echo with music or laughter.
But on this day, it certainly did.
Intermountain Health St. Mary’s Regional Hospital in Grand Junction, Colorado, on Friday said a group of staff members recently transformed the space into something extraordinary — a wedding venue for Muranda “Mandy” Lambert, a woman who was facing the final chapter of her life.
Lambert was battling stage four kidney cancer that had spread to her bones, the hospital said in a news release. While she already married her husband, Damon, in a small courthouse ceremony, they had hoped for something more.
The couple wanted a gathering filled with loved ones, a chance to say their vows surrounded by warmth and celebration.
But in December, Lambert was admitted to the hospital, and those plans slipped away.
That was until her care team decided they shouldn’t.
When nurses Berenice Aguirre-Acosta and Ailis Yanez — a mother–daughter duo who work on the 10th floor — learned that Lambert never had her dream ceremony, they didn’t hesitate. They asked a simple question: What if we bring the wedding to her?
Word traveled quickly through the unit, with several employees stepping up to plan the wedding.
“One nurse wasn’t even working that day — he came in with his wife just to be part of it,” Daniell Lovett, a nurse manager, said in the release. “Everyone was excited. People were saying, ‘We’re having a wedding?!’”
And so they did.
According to the release, the hospital’s family waiting room “transformed into a warm, intimate space filled with decorations, music, and emotion.” Family and friends gathered close. Even a group of student nurses who just started working at the hospital joined the ceremony.
“There were definitely tears,” Lovett said. “It was beautiful.”
During the celebration, Lambert praised her husband. she thanked him for his unwavering support.
“Since I got sick, he’s been right there by my side — hasn’t even left it,” she said, according to the release. “I don’t know anybody else that would sit in a hospital for a month and not end up leaving.”
In a room filled with love, they said “I do” again. This time, not in a courthouse. This time, surrounded by a community that refused to let illness steal one more thing from them.
The ceremony wasn’t something Lambert expected. It was a gift, created from compassion by people who cared for her.
For the caregivers, it was a reminder of why they chose this calling.
“These are the things we got into healthcare for,” Lovett said. “To take care of the person — not just the diagnosis. It’s an honor to be part of moments like this.”
Not long after the wedding, Lambert passed away. Even in her final weeks, she chose gratitude and joy.
“You’ve gotta go one day at a time,” she said before her passing. “Life’s too short not to you’ve gotta have fun.”