October 22, 2017

Marriage

• By John F. Chisholm •

My son married the 26th of last month.  Of course my wife and I attended.

The bride’s family put on a beautiful wedding.  Clearly, they poured tremendous amounts of time and effort into the affair.

Wendy and I had only to arrange the rehearsal dinner.   Even with my wife doing most of the work, there was still plenty for me to do.  Lodging was a consideration (we rented a house).  Speeches had to be prepared, tuxedos rented, flowers arranged and, absolutely, a caterer scheduled as well.  Of course there were vegetarian guests along with gluten-free attendees, transportation issues (the wedding was on Peaks Island) and long lists of items not, under any circumstances, to be forgotten.

Never mind.

I know it’s proper after any wedding to rave about the bride.  That would be easy to do.  She was gorgeous, gracious and graceful, too.  Every bit.  Her dress was stunning.  She is a marvelous companion for my son.

Needless to add, I could rave about my son, too.  He was handsome, smiling, polite and well groomed.  Extremely.  How could we be prouder?

Then there were the family members and friends who traveled thousands of miles in some instances to honor this couple.  How very kind.  It was fabulous seeing everyone.

The ceremony was lovely.  Moving.  I grow increasing sentimental with age.

Don’t forget the reception.  It was a gala event; hors d’oeuvres, salad, dinner and dessert for 150 guests.  That’s before the music and dancing.  There was a wedding planner and two professional photographers.  That’s before we get to the cellphones pictures and all the amateur photos taken.  Electronic flashes exploded around me, the night through.

We came home Sunday morning after a delicious, homemade brunch at the bride’s family’s house, completely exhausted.

But our physical condition isn’t the point, either.

We didn’t bear the brunt of this affair.  We didn’t have the wedding dress to consider, the bridesmaid’s dresses, the groomsmen’s attire, the ritual itself, the menu, the bar, the inundation of family, the scheduling and so on.  And on and on.  The bride’s parents did all of that.

It was a huge undertaking.

Is it proper to rave about them?

Somebody should.