Our days are made up of moments, tiny bits of time which, when strung together, make up the events and memories of our lives. Individually, most of the moments are too small to stand on their own importance . But collectively, they make up the occasions which comprise our most emotional experiences. I do recall the first moment that I really saw Katie, but I can see vividly the entirety of our first date together. The moment of a first kiss, the birth/adoption arrival of a child, the final breath of a loved one: they are all but fragments of a larger narrative that is our life. Within that, there are few chapters more deserving of recognition and wonder than the wedding of a daughter. Last weekend, one of our daughters was married, and I am still trembling with the warmth of the union.
Hers was not the first among our children, simply the most recent. Her brother was married just nine months ago; her twin sister recited vows just two years ago. Marriage has suddenly become a familiar ritual within our household. But it has never been taken lightly.
This is the little girl who emerged from an airplane flight from Seoul, Korea all those years ago, jet-black hair sticking straight up as if in homage to punk rock, the one who adorably had trouble pronouncing her “r’s,” who flipped over gymnastics, tackled the piano without fear, sought private schooling for the challenge of it, became a social worker, a lawyer and assistant district attorney. But all of it notwithstanding, our proudest moment happened at that ceremony.
Everything about it was reflective of the little girl who nestled in our arms 37 years ago. The venue was The Avalon Hotel, an historic place which for far too many years was the only hotel in Rochester, Minnesota which would accept African American patrons, but which hosted such renowned performers as Count Basie, Duke Ellington and The Ink Spots. The head chef is an artist, Youness Bojii, who honed his culinary skills initially in Morrocco. His passion for the art is as evident as the energy in his voice and movement. The presiding judge was a recently-retired justice from juvenile court, a man with empathy and humor and a reputation as a truly good man. The guest list was small: just 22 family members, of whom almost half were under the age of 18. The intimacy of the evening perfectly matched the personal vows spoken by a young woman and a young man committing to one another.
In advance of the day, I tried to imagine, once again, the emotions that we were likely to feel. There was joy at our daughter’s joy, of course, and the bursting excitement of a new chapter in her still-young life. We sighed in knowing the comfort of the character of her new husband and what he so obviously feels for her. Laughter filled the night, as the groom’s children, observing their dad and step-mom with complete contentment, told stories on each other and the newlyweds, too. Before dessert, the kids were outdoors, gathered on the sidewalk along the Avalon, playing Red Light, Green Light, and welcoming the handful of adults who could not resist in the joining. (How I wanted to be part of that!) Before the evening had ended, reluctant tears nonetheless spotted my cheeks as Katie and I remembered a history of our little girl. (Yes, she is still little and still our girl.) And by nightfall, we felt the pride and satisfaction of having done the very best we could in raising our daughter to be the person she is. Sleep smothered our cares this night, the final requirement of an exceptional day.
The terrain of our lives can get rocky at times; despite our best attempts, vision of the road ahead is not always clear and the route not always smooth. But along the way, there are oases that invite us in for rest and recovery, for cool air in the heat of distraction, and which can re-direct us on our journeys. That was the balm of last week’s wedding, a welcome milepost along our way….
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