A Joyful Symmetry

The following is the toast I made to Owen and Emily at their wedding... -KP

As some of you may or may not know, I am the writer in the family, and as such, I had to write this toast down. I am not a public speaker and have spent my entire life avoiding any prospects where public speaking might be required. I could have been a contestant on American Idol, for instance, but, alas, I don’t like standing in front of crowds. So forgive me for appearing scripted but know that what I have to say about this fine young couple is nonetheless true and from the heart.

That very weekend after my dad died, I attended a wedding. It was my cousin-in-law’s, up in Klamath, California, and I took the opportunity to study the Best Man there. Owen was my Best Man and he did a fantastic job, but you can’t study the Best Man at your own wedding –you’re too busy smiling for pictures and dancing with relatives you haven’t seen in six years. So I studied the Best Man up in Klamath and it turns out that Best Men do a lot. At one point during my cousin-in-law’s wedding, the Best Man had to go out and buy several generators and some gasoline because, in the beginning, there was only one and it wasn’t going to cut it for the lights, the band, the slide show and the Barney-shaped jumper house. I hope, tonight, we don’t have a blackout because I don’t know the first thing about generators, and I doubt one would fit in the trunk of my Ford Focus. But this is what Best Men do: they are the MacGuyver’s of the wedding scene, solving the myriad puzzles that inevitably arise during any wedding, even if it’s just to say, “Don’t worry about – have another drink.” Generally speaking, they keep an eye on things so that the bride and groom don’t have to and are there to make sure that the guests are comfortable. I checked with Emily Post, the dowager empress of etiquette, on any further duties I might have tonight and found a number of titles that I am absolutely and utterly neglecting so far: “Best Man As Baggage Master,” “Best Man As Valet,” “Best Man As Companion-In- Ordinary” and so on. She had nothing to say about fetching generators and gas, and much to say about cuff links and clergyman’s fees, and I got to wondering whether she had actually ever been to a wedding before. I quote: “He also registers for the newly-weds, secures the hotel key, returns to the house of the groom, gives him the key and assures him that everything at the hotel is in readiness. If he is thoughtful, he may himself have put flowers about as a decorative welcome.” End quote. Flowers!? Owen, I’m sorry –I was so busy being your “Companion-In- Ordinary” that I must have forgot the flowers. To her credit, though, Mrs. Post may have never attended a wedding way up in Klamath, but she does understand that the Best Man’s job is a big one that requires creativity, poise and a very dry sense of humor.

Actually, it’s been quite easy to be Owen’s Best Man. In typical Owen-fashion, he has approached today with total confidence and composure, which I’m glad for. I think the image of the overly nervous, bumbling bridegroom is a bad cliche, and if my brother somehow typified it by hyperventilating over a pair of missing cuff links, I’d say that missing cuff links were really the least of his problems, if you catch my drift. Owen, cool as a cucumber, steady as stone, has so far only asked me to do two things today, the first of which was to bring my i-pod and portable stereo so that we could all cut a rug later. Check. The second was to say something about –and this is how he put it– “Dad, and us planning the wedding when we did.” “Sure,” I said, as casually as meeting the request to bring my i-pod because, at the time, it really seemed that simple. And it is that simple for all of us who have been lucky enough to have Emily here with us on the West Coast and to witness her and Owen’s courtship, and to know firsthand its chronology alongside the unfortunate chronology of my dad’s illness and death. But for all the folks living in the frozen tundra of Minnesota or wherever else that is far away from their beloved daughter, sister, granddaughter, cousin, niece, or friend –whoever Emily is to you– this wedding would no doubt seem rushed to you if one minute you heard that Emily’s boyfriend’s father was sick and the next minute you heard that they were getting married. Perhaps you didn’t even get this degree of play-by-play. Perhaps all you heard was, “Emily’s getting married and her fiancé’s father just died.” If this was the case, that wouldn’t surprise me. I only live 350 miles north of LA and Owen only calls me when he’s stuck in traffic, and only after 6 PM when his minutes are free. My father died on my one-year anniversary and I have plenty of photographs that prove that he was in perfect health that day. O and Em were there, and they could tell you. So were several of you who are also here today. We had a good time and my dad was there. That’s how fast his cancer moved through him and that’s how fast life can clip along. So here’s the truth of the matter, and listen carefully –what I’m about to say is subtle but true: Owen and Emily did not rush into marriage; rather, they rushed the date on which to marry and they did this so that my father might attend. Rush into marriage, the contract, the promise to face life together until death do you part –No. In fact, many of my friends and family members at my own wedding who had only met Emily for the first time that day, came up to me throughout the evening to ask, “So, has your brother proposed yet.” But rush the wedding date so that my dad might make it –Yes, of course. More than anyone else, a son wants his father at his wedding.

So why didn’t they postpone the wedding date once it became apparent that my dad wouldn’t be attending? This is a good question. But when your dad and once-future father-in-law dies in less than a year’s time, you realize something: this is life, it’s crazy, and if we were to always wait for the “right” time to do things, nothing –absolutely nothing– would ever get done. Nobody understands this more than Owen and Emily who, together, actively and daily cared for my father to the very end and at the expense of their jobs, their free time, and, yes, their time alone with each other. This is dedication. This is sacrifice. This is compromise. And these are the cornerstones of a lifelong partnership. For Owen and Emily to stick to their wedding date AFTER they knew that my dad would not be attending is an indication of their ability to stick to commitments in general, in the face of life’s most disruptive event, death. If this is not the foremost value that we want all young newlyweds to possess as they begin their lives together, then I don’t know what is. This, and perhaps what Emily Post suggests, to quote “not give up all pretense of good manners and treat your partner like an ‘old shoe’,” end quote.

Yes, that would stink...

So, tonight, I have two toasts –one for the bride and one for the groom, and we can drink to them each and then together at the end. The first toast is for Emily and it goes: “It is, in the end, a joyful symmetry / To have lost my dear father / And gained a sister in thee.” Welcome to the family, Em. Salud!

And to my brother, Owen. This is one that you know already but I’m going to say it anyway because it’s true: “Life is short and life is mean, so get yourself some loving in-between.” Salud!

I congratulate you both and wish you all the best. To the bride and groom!