The Princess Bride…
My family and I returned home last night from attending a wedding, having driven down to Southern California and back for an extended four-day weekend. It was one of the best weddings I’ve ever attended (apart from my own, of course!) and that realization sparked my thinking. I’ve been to dozens of weddings. Why did this particular one feel so special to me?
It was a delightful outdoor wedding, hinting only for a few minutes at a possible rain shower. The ceremony was held at Pasadena City Hall, an overwhelming Renaissance-style structure seen for miles with a surprisingly beautiful, meticulously groomed, floral courtyard, complete with a majestic, multi-tiered central fountain. Was it the location? Very, very nice, but no.
The ceremony itself leaned a bit towards the unique side. It was originally intended to be officiated by a personable, overweight, jolly-looking minister who resembled a cross between Alan Hale, Jr. (The Skipper on Gilligan’s Island) and Franklin Cover (Tom Willis on The Jeffersons). I say “originally intended” because, at the last possible moment, a surprise announcement was made that the bride’s uncle would perform the ceremony. In California, anyone can be deputized to perform weddings upon successful completion of an application for a fee. But I had never heard of anyone doing so before. Was that what made the wedding seem special? I don’t think so.
La Canada-Flintridge Country Club hosted the reception. It was late in the day in early April, so the breathtaking view of the Los Angeles area was quickly eclipsed by darkness, replaced by the fuzzy twinkling of night-time city lights glowing through a thin blanket of smog. Excellent food, decent wine, and an entertaining Master of Ceremonies rounded off a delightfully fun evening, not to mention the Conga line! The bride and groom were even characteristically thoughtful enough to provide day care for children of the attendees, also a unique first in my wedding experiences. But even that wasn’t enough to make this occasion stand out.
After only a few moments of thought, I realized that it had nothing whatsoever to do with the ceremony, the minister, the fact that I personally knew all the groomsmen and all but one of the bridesmaids, the country club, the food, the entertainment, the favors, the elaborate cake, or the likely small fortune of money spent. Nothing! It could have been a Reno wedding, performed by an overweight Elvis impersonator wearing a white, sequined suit, blue suede shoes and a set of stick-on sideburns, and it would have been eternally preserved in my mental scrapbook as much as the event that actually took place.
I realized that I had never been to a wedding at which I knew both the bride and the groom so intimately.
I’ve been to weddings of coworkers, friends, my wife’s friends, neighbors, relatives, complete strangers, and the like, but they usually end up marrying somebody I’d never even heard of, let alone met. For example, my cousin Meg, who to this day I still adore, despite her brief plunge into the dark side during late adolescence, married a man whom I had never previously met and whom I have not seen since. Unfortunately, living on opposite ends of the country as we do, I haven’t had the opportunity to see Meg or her husband and, frankly, couldn’t even tell you a thing about him or even what he looks like.
On the other hand, I can tell you that Brent, the groom at this delightful open-air wedding, is a quiet, thoughtful, unassuming man. He is intelligent, gentle, and worthy of respect. I can trust him with just about anything and frequently do, as he often volunteers to help watch my two-year-old son, my most valued possession. We have similar interests in that we both get that twinkle in our eyes when we talk about computers, gadgets, and computer strategy games, and we’re both adventurous and outgoing. His soft demeanor and his loving attitude toward children, animals, and his new bride convince me that he will be an excellent husband and father.
Monica, the blushing bride, I have known only slightly longer than Brent. We once worked together, and I had described our relationship on a company emergency contact form as “kind of a half-sister, coworker, best friend, [ex-]neighbor thing.” She is fun, smart, responsible, and possesses a free spirit. I love her deeply and everyone else knows it, blemished by the fact that I am continuously reminded that I have aged a decade more than she; best only when you’re a fine wine or, more appropriately, an antique. Monica has an incredible relationship with both her mother and brother, and I admire her strength in dealing with her past life experiences. She’s a simple girl (OK, fine, a natural, down-to-earth woman!) who will make an incredible mother and who is as comfortable wearing mud splatters as she is a pristine wedding gown — which, by the way, was white and well earned, another aspect of her I admire. I have never seen Monica more beautiful, elegant and radiant then I did on her wedding day, and I told her so. I neglected, however, to tell her that she was truly one of the most beautiful brides I had ever seen. It doesn’t matter; she wouldn’t have believed me anyway.
This intimate knowledge of them both, seeing, weighing, and judging them individually, and knowing that they were entering into a sacred bond, made this one of the most remarkable and personal wedding experiences for me. They are the only couple I know who, despite marrying so young, I know will make it for the long haul. They, in fact, will be together for the rest of their lives; I feel it deep inside. My only regret is that I was so overcome at their wedding that all I could say to them both was “Congratulations!” What a dolt I am!
Well, uh… ummm… Congratulations, you two!
Oh, dámn, I did it again…
You little snot, you made me all teary! I love this! I think that I will print it out and put it in our scrapbook! You are such a sweetie and I am so glad that you were there with us!!
hugs and love,
Monica