I must have mentioned that my oldest granddaughter planned to wed. Our family has thought of little else these past weeks. Saturday, January 25, was the big day.
If ever there was a fairy-tale wedding, this was it. Sometimes the stars align, details fall in place, and life feels just right. When it happens to one as dear as a grandchild, Gramma rejoices and asks no questions. I felt lucky to be along for the ride.
The bride glowed and the groom beamed. The minister gave a lovely homily on the importance of familial support, a charge, if you will, to both families, and to friends present, to support and encourage the couple. I think that’s important and necessary so I was happy that he included it in the service.
The reception, I think, was the most fun one I’ve ever attended. One granddaughter entered the ballroom at The State Club, looked at the flowers and cake, turned an ear to the music and commented, “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life!” Then she went to the dance floor and started to cut a rug with her brother. She literally danced the night away–with Uncle D and Cousin A and Sister H and whoever else was willing to take to the floor. Yep. It was seven-year-old S, my youngest grandchild. Here she is with her big brother.
On Monday, two days after the wedding when I went out to walk with my buddies, they told me I still had that wedding glow about me. I guess that’s what happens when a grandma sees her grandchild perfectly happy.
I’ve had great fun telling friends about the festivities. The photo booth was a big hit. The best I can tell photographers with funny props and instant pictures are all the rage these days. Afterward one can go online and order more copies to share if one chooses to do so. Need I say I’m not likely to want more of me but I might want some of family and friends. Here, my grandson, his dad and I ham it up for the camera. Because I used to teach Spanish, I had to don the sombrero. Or so they said. I was happy that it matched my wedding ensemble. Question: What do a Spanish teacher, a 12-year-old rabbi and a goofy dunce have in common? Answer: We’re family having fun.
Sit down now. I’ve saved the best for last. Okay, I admit it’s probably not the best part but it just could be the funniest. The band spokesman announced that all the “single ladies” should come on the floor to vie for the bridal bouquet. You know the story. The one who catches the bouquet is the next one to marry. This was a spontaneous act. Really. My ear heard “single ladies” and the usually silent imp on my shoulder kicked the stuffing out of common sense and decorum. I stood, said “That’s me!” and entered the fray with a broad grin on my face.
I think the bride couldn’t stand to miss an opportunity such as this. She threw it right to me.
I’ve had lots of questions relevant to my “catch.” Questions about dating, marrying again, etc. The answer is NO.
My favorite comment, though, came from my new grandson-in-law. He said, “Every once in a while a moment comes along that you know you’ll always remember. Pat kicking ass to get that bouquet is one of those moments.” Thanks, J. I do get a bit competitive sometimes. Welcome to the family. We love you.