8/2/15,
“Dearly Beloved”
Hood River,
Oregon
In about six
hours, my uncle will be saying those two words, “Dearly beloved,” as he begins
officiating the marriage ceremony of my brother and the girl I have been
referring to as “my sister” for two years now.
After the vows are exchanged, she will be my sister by law, but we have
considered each other brother and sister for lo those two years. Many people who are dearly beloved will be at
this ceremony, and she is absolutely one of them. Many more people who are dearly beloved to
the happy couple will be in attendance.
Their friends and families, immediate and extended, will be there. My brother and his four friends from high
school, I know with absolute certainty that the five of them are dearly beloved
to each other. These are friends I grew
up with, too. They are not quite dearly
beloved to me, but they are important to me, because they are important to
him.
What about our family members? Are they dearly beloved to me? Prevailing wisdom says they should be, but
why should I claim to love a cousin I find to be a despicable human being, or why
should I love a cousin who won’t answer my messages and lies about me behind my
back? No, my criteria for being dearly
beloved to me is you can make me happy.
Cousin, friend, coworker, it doesn’t matter. If when I wave to you, text you, or say hi to you
in the morning, and it brightens my day, that you are dearly beloved. It’s that simple. If I run over to you when I see you, that
means you are dearly beloved. If I put
everything else aside to answer your texts, that means you are dearly beloved. If my voice gets all squeaky and excited when
I say hi to you, that means you are dearly beloved.
If I just go through motions to fulfill my
family obligations, sorry, but you are not dearly beloved. I’ll probably catch some flak for this, but I
don’t care. Of the entire guest list,
including the happy couple, there are exactly six people here who are dearly
beloved. You know who you are. They are the six people here who provide the
most value to the life, who make me the happiest. I will explore that idea more thoroughly in
my personal journal, where I can actually enumerate those six names. I’m actually mulling over the idea of
publishing this entry early, but I think that would be a bad idea. It has its merits, though. I will not want to write and publish when I
get back tonight, but I also feel weird about publishing before the
wedding. I suppose I could write an
entry at the venue, before the reception starts, but I can’t publish there, I
don’t think. I’m sure I could find a
free half hour to write, but I don’t know.
I’ll see how this entry looks after I finish it.
After I closed last night, I uploaded some
photos to Facebook from Canada and then got ready. This other idea of dearly beloved, while
there are only six people here who are dearly beloved to me, there are lots
more whom I am genuinely glad to see.
Anyone in that group, I made a special point to see, to talk to, to
share a meal with, to spend time with. I
usually hate when people with whom I have a tiny connection try to make a big
deal out of it. If we don’t want to
spend time together, I am genuinely okay with you flat out ignoring me. There are many social situations that make me
feel uncomfortable, but this is one of the few where I thrive. If I go to a party with only one person I
know, I consider that person my “anchor.”
I need to be anchored to that person, to let them make the
introductions.
Here, I could mingle, I
could spend time with the people I wanted to see. My extended family (my cousins most of all),
my brother’s godparents, Deborah’s parents, my brother’s group of friends and
their SOs (I have developed a special bond with my brother’s best friend’s
wife, much to my mother’s chagrin, who is convinced she is trying to ruin the
wedding), all of those people, I made a special point to see. Further, as the Best Man, I had certain
obligations, to make sure none of my brother’s guests felt lonely or left
out. To that end, my best friend and I made a special point to include one of my brother’s work colleagues who was
here alone. The rehearsal dinner was an
all-around good time, my aunt running the show.
The food and drink was delicious and free-flowing. My brother’s friends gave amazing speeches,
ribbing on him and teasing him.
My
little skit played over well, and we got a very special email from my
father. The wedding announcement was up
on the New York Times’s website, and it was beautifully done. We all kvelled over it before the younger
folks went to the after party. I had
been saving a special cigar for the wedding.
When I bought the box of Hoyo de Monterrey cigars, it quickly became the
“friends and family” cigar. I saved the
cigars for special occasions with friends and family. What more fitting occasion than among the
dearly beloved to smoke the last cigar I would smoke from that box? I smoked it at the after party, surrounded by
Adam’s dearly beloved, people who mattered to me. Everything else that happened at the after
party is outside the scope of this Travelogue. Around 1 AM, Sokol and I were back out the balcony, smoking another
cigar, and I opted for the Cabaiguan I had been carrying around all day.
When I woke up, I excitedly texted the
wedding announcement to the two most dearly beloved people in my life who were
not in attendance. I then posted on
Facebook, and it get more Likes than any of my posts in quite some time. We headed down to breakfast and wound up sitting
with my brother’s godparents, who were genuinely touched that I mentioned them
before my skit. “Who paid for it?” the
godmother joked. I pointed to my
father. I explained that he said how
happy he was that they were here, so I wanted to make a mention of it. They were very touched. It was true.
The godfather is the one person outside his immediate family (his wife
and sons) whom he considers dearly beloved.
They are probably also dearly beloved to Adam, too. It meant something that they were here while
others who may want to claim to be dearly beloved were not there.
I’m sorry, but anyone who did not attend this
wedding for any reason besides poor health cannot claim the title of dearly
beloved. For breakfast, I had the corned
beef hash and eggs, along with a side of bacon, absolutely delicious. After breakfast, we headed back up to the
room, and I went back out to the balcony, where I lit up a Jericho Hill and
proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can work on my
personal entry. I think I will publish
actually.
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