//THE SISTER MARRIES HER MISTER//
My sister’s wedding on Saturday was fantastic. The ceremony itself was beautiful and moving – enough so that it overshadowed the inevitable snafus that always accompany family events. Of course, when two families collide, there are even more possible skirmishes. But we survived, and I live to tell about it. There are a few photos on my fotolog account (click on T’BONES PHOTOS in left column).
Memorable Moments:
1. After the minister read the oft-used “love scripture” from I Corinthians, the two lovebirds recited vows they had written. I’m sure the groom’s vows were great, but they were hard to decipher because he was choking back tears.
My sister’s were powerful, enough so that I remember this quote: “Over the course of our relationship, we’ve kissed thousands of times. But the next kiss will be different, because it is a promise.” Both of them said things about “giving all my heart” and “you are my world” etc. etc. Very sweet.
2. The church’s wedding coordinator, a nice old lady, was not much for organization. I had not made it to the rehearsal because on Friday I had picked up Uncle Spam and Aunt Jiffypop from the airport (more on this later). As an usher, my job wasn’t too hard. But she gave me instructions seconds before I was to do them. No big deal. I knew I was escorting my mom to her seat; did not know in advance that I would be lighting the unity candle, handing it to my parents, returning to the back with my dad and opening the doors for him and my sister, escorting my mom out, etc.
3. It was hard to light the unity candle. Someone had not trimmed the wick, and it took three misfires with a cheap lighter before it caught the flame (perhaps symbolic of the three boyfriends my sister had before meeting Mr. Right?).
4. My sister’s almost-4-year-old son was the “ring bearer” in a cute little tuxedo. His job was to follow the flower girls down the aisle, holding the pillow (which did not actually carry the rings). Poor guy. My nephew sulked down the aisle, dragging the pillow (as he apparently had done in rehearsal), and got upset when my mom pulled him to his seat (also rehearsed). Can’t blame the little guy. He saw mommy and her boyfriend dressed in funny clothes, saying funny things and crying surreal tears of joy.
5. The Mother of the Groom, I’ll call her Bertha, had stated early in the planning stages that she considered her son’s marriage her one chance to do the wedding thing (her daughter currently has three children, all from different fathers, some serious mental problems and no plan to settle down). As such, Bertha asserted her womanhood and threw her considerable weight around. The most blatant was her determination to make the groom’s cake (which she made herself) be just as large and fancy as the main white wedding cake.Traditionally, a groom’s cake is a small chocolate supplement for those who do not want white cake, or when the guests outnumber the capacity for the white cake’s yummy goodness.
Bertha’s groom cake was a series of rum bunt cakes. Rum was added to the batter, then the cooked cake was soaked in rum. A lot of rum. More rum than a Baptist church can normally stand. Funny moment came when a boy – probably 9 or 10 - smelled his piece of groom’s cake and said it smelled like graham crackers. I told him it was the rum in it. His eyes got really big. I saw that same kid later on, staggering around like a sailor on shore leave, singing sea chanteys and trying to pick up women his mom's age.
Bertha also made it perfectly clear to everyone that she did not eat the white cake, would not, could not! More for me, lady. It was delicious. I had another piece at my parent’s house after dinner, too. Take that, Big Bertha!
6. The guy who caught my sister’s garter, and the girl who caught my sister’s bouquet, are dating each other. How ironic and sweet! Wonder if they will be the “next ones” to get married.
7. My wife, the lovely Petite Filet, asked the best man (the groom’s 19-year-old brother) if he had the getaway car “taken care of.” The Best Man responded intelligently, “Huh?” She explained that the getaway car is traditionally decorated by members of the wedding party. These days it means toilet paper and shoe polish. We figured it wouldn’t happen and were right. After all, it was the best man’s car that was used as the escape pod! The groom had rendered his car undrivable in a wreck a few weeks earlier (a longstanding trend that needs to stop before he kills himself or someone else. ).
8. The Petite Filet was also Matron of Honor. All three women in the wedding party are married with children. All three men on the groom’s side (his brother and two friends) are single. An interesting contrast: stunning, married-mom goddesses vs. goony single dorks.
9. Uncle Spam and Aunt Jiffypop (my dad’s brother and sister) flew in from Virginia on Friday. Because I’m closer to DFW Airport than anyone else, and had but a small role in the ceremony, I was tagged to pick them up. Knowing the airport fairly well, I parked near their gate and waited at their assigned baggage claim for their arrival (meeting spot was arranged per e-mail earlier in the week). They never showed up. I rechecked the arrival screen. Sure enough, I was in the right spot.
I called my aunt’s cell phone and left messages. Called my dad to see if he’d heard from them. Walked the curbs, checked other areas (was restricted to baggage claim and ticket counters). Approached a ticket counter in desperation to see if I could ensure they were on their flight. Was informed “We cannot tell you that for security reasons.” Well, I figured that would be the answer. But I was getting a little stressed – it was more than an hour since the plane landed. Mumbled back, “Well, for transportation reasons, I won’t be able to find them!”
Finally, saw Aunt Jiffypop. We hugged, and she said they had been at the wrong baggage claim (the right one was a different number than their gate). So I shoe-horned them and their luggage into the Stang and we motored (at great speed) to the church. Caught the end of rehearsal then hoofed it to the dinner.
The dinner was in the same hotel as my junior prom many years ago. The food was better, but there was no dancing involved. At least in our room. There was some glitzy benefit in one of the large ballrooms nearby, from which a lot of noise came. I call those “Geezer Proms.”
10. The lovebirds changed clothes after the reception and emerged into a sea of bubbles. Being the dorky brother I am, I hollered at my sister and threw my bubble-bottle at her. She smirked and picked up the bottle, shaking her head. At least I did not aim right at her ... not like that time she was 4 and I was 9 and I tossed a rock and hit her right between the eyes. Oops! Those days are long gone. And now my sister’s all grown up.
***
For single attendees, a wedding can give them hope for finding a lifelong lovemate. For the already hitched, a wedding can be like a pep rally for marriage.
The Petite Filet and I discussed our own situation. She said how many times a gal will say the reason she married her man is “because I love him.” But she knows it takes more than just love. You have to be able to imagine growing old together and have a compatibility that may change over time, but never falter. You have to be a perfect fit from the beginning, you can’t really change someone to fit your mold. It takes patience. It takes understanding. It takes flexibility. It takes strength. It takes a foundation of friendship. Love must weather the storms and emerge stronger than before. If love exists only for its own sake, it won’t survive the tough times, much less the occasional argument. That Beatles song is a lie!
If you want true love, know it’s possible. If you’ve got it, hold on to it. And if you don’t believe in it or have been hurt before, I hope someone will come along to change your heart. And save me a piece of the white cake, won't you?
