You Were There
When people gather for a wedding, it's for more than the cake, the open bar, the chance to date the bridesmaids, or do the electric slide, the chicken dance, and the beer-barrel polka all on the same night.
And it's beyond the sharing of a collective sigh of relief, whether because the bride is finally off the streets, the groom is legally bound to the mother of his children, the ceremony won't include the same reading twice, or all the Star Trek communicators will be hidden until it's too late.
It's for something quite a bit more profound: not only to bear witness to a commitment two people make to each other, but also to pledge as a community to support the two of them as they make a life together.
Twenty-one years ago, you stood up to do that for us. And today we're still standing, and so are you right along with us, one way or another.
We often recall the words of the minister who officiated, after the deed was done and JJ had picked me up in a joyful skyward leap and we'd rubbed noses (not something we'd planned, rather than the more traditional kiss, but another one of those well-of-course moments): "I don't think I've ever seen a groom who was quite so pleased with himself!"
When Lorne sent me a sweet sentimental note the mark the occasion, I admit I was moved...and then wondered for a moment what it must have been like to watch the first of the four in our generation cross that threshold.
What were you thinking as you watched?
I know I was trying hard not to cry, and wishing that I had actually prepared precisely what I WANTED to express when it was my turn to speak instead of kind of leaving that to the last minute (setting a fine precedent, 'cause I didn't think of what I really wanted to say at Lorne & Corinne's reception either).
I also knew that, very much like the first time I ever lifted an airplane off the ground, it felt as exquisitely effortless as breathing. I never had any question that either one was the precisely perfect thing that I was always meant to do.
I could not have imagined a more perfect mate -- not only for that moment in time, but, even more extraordinary, someone who, inexplicably, would continue to show up having and doing and bringing and being exactly what and who I needed at every step along remarkable path we have trod together.
How did we celebrate? We went out for a very nice dinner. And JJ surprised me with a 32-gig iPod Touch, custom engraved, "For your ears only. (To be whispered in forever)." Because we really don't usually buy each other presents. It may sound strange, but we are both firmly convinced that each one's presence in the other's life is the most precious gift either of us could possibly have hoped for, wonder how we managed to deserve such treasure, and pray fervently that we manage not to mess with the streak.
Here's to Club Wed. Thanks for coming with us.