For some reason, I refused to review the events that had led me to this situation. I know I had covered them all millions of times, well at least thousands, or maybe several hundred. Point is, I knew the decision was correct, however the event was circumspect to say the least.
If it were left to man, which it never is, weddings would be composed of minimal in-laws, few relatives, and no ceremony. Of course alcoholics beverages, pretzels and the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders would suffice as a replacement. I suppose, in the grand scheme, that is why men don’t plan weddings.
The August heat reminded me just why, at least once, the location of such an event may have been less than well considered. But the house just couldn’t contain everyone that had arrived. Besides, somewhere, I was sure, there was at least an energetic cheerleader ready to rush in with a beer and bag of stale pretzel sticks. But that may have been too much sun as well.
Standing on the patio, a female minister standing in front of me and slightly off to me, looking just as hot and nervous as I was. She had a slight frown on her face as she looked at me. I wondered if I had done something wrong already, before having spoke a single word, or was I standing there, in front of God’s speaker and the rest of the known world, with my fly open. I smiled at her weakly and she returned it, allowing me the faint hope that she was just nervous, as I was, to be started.
To my right, stood my elder brother, the one chosen for the bestowed title of “Best Man”. Now, being male, I am not sure of the function that this guy is to perform. My understanding is that he will remember the Bride’s ring, when I, the primary stupid male, have forgotten where I put it. To me that seemed the blind leading the blind. I suspect that to the future mother-in-law, it meant that together, he and I, should manage not to pawn, sell, trade or otherwise loose such jewelry that would be needed that afternoon.
Somewhere, off to the side, a lady was singing. I didn’t know what the song was, but I had hoped my Wife-to-Be had at least offered it up to me for approval. Not that, I suspect, my opinion was considered, but being asked was generally enough for a lowly Groom-to-Be. The song was one of those slow sappy ones, the ones that are easily drowned out by the baseball game on the tube.
All of the people out in front of me, sitting standing, talking and walking. They all seemed to be having a good time, in spite of, or despite of, me and my situation. My future Mother-in-Law, was already weepy, grabbing for her husbands handkerchief while placing a well aimed elbow in his ribs, in apparent retaliation for something he had or hadn’t said at the proper time. My mother looked about in some confusion, mostly because she knew only slightly fewer of the people than I did.
Then it stopped. The music. The talking. The walking. The birds.
The door behind me, opened, and the Bride’s maid stepped out. Her smile was genuine as she looked at me then out at the crowd as she took her place. The Bride’s sister was that close to support her, and give her blessing to out union, and to lend her love and strength.
Next, a small boy took a small leap from the door, grinning in a lopsided way, moving to stand between me and the door. The stains on his new pants, on any other day, would have warranted a stern lecture, but today they reminded me that I too was once a little boy.
His sister, only slightly taller, stepped quietly through the door. Her new dress, glorious in the afternoon sun. Her and her Aunt had been busy the entire day, putting the finishing touches on it. She took the few steps toward me and allowed me to lean forward the bit to give her a hug, before she moved to the side with her Aunt, the Bride’s maid.
Then She stepped through the door. And in her non-traditional dark gown, looked far more beautiful than my words can express. She stopped for a moment and looked at me. And then, I would testify under oath, the sun was not so hot, the music not so silly, the minister not so nervous, and me so in love.
Each child, boy and girl, took their mother by the hands and led her the last step to my side. And as they stood they, they looked up and smiled at she and I. The four of us together on the last step to the new future.
The minister spoke gently, but in clear loud tones and asked who gave the woman in marriage. “I do!” shouted the enthusiastic 6 year old boy, creating a wave of titters in the crowd. His sister, giving him the patient look only a ten year old sister can give, spoke the same words in her clear alto voice.
I couldn’t turn from their smiling faces when the minister asked if I would accept my Bride from them. “I do accept her as my Bride.” Then moving to the girl, I knelt and placed a locket around her neck saying, “I accept you as my daughter”. Her eyes were wide with surprise and excitement, and she provided a long tight hug. To the boy, I knelt and around his neck, hung a St Christopher metal to protect him from harm. “I accept you as my son”, and he replied with a hug while trying to inspect the charm on the chain. Through the Bride’s tears you could hear her tell each child how much she loved them, as she hugged each one in turn. And as she rose to look at me, the children stepped aside, so their mother and I, would stand together.
I don’t remember all that was said. I don’t remember the heat of the sun, the coolness of the breeze or the tune of the songs. I remember looking into her eyes, and seeing love for me. I remember the gentleness of her hands that promised to caress my fevered brow or rub tired shoulders. I remember her smile, that promised through it all, together we would be.
I am sure there were vows. After all, in a fit of weakness, I had agreed to write them. I must have said them cause no one seemed to be distressed at the process unfolding before them.
I saw her look away for a second then down at my hand. I watched as she slid the thin band on my finger. Then she smiled.
I felt a tug on my arm. There beside me, my “Best Man”. My Brother. Right where he had been through all the years of my life. Through happiness and pain, good and bad, illness and health. In his hand he held a simple gold band. He placed it in my open palm then offered a firm handshake and his best wishes. The band slid effortlessly on the finger of my Bride and she cried a tear of joy.
Royce E Tuck
2000