Family - Why Do All Those People Look So Familiar?
Without our families, where would love, happiness, heartbreak, suicidal depression and clinical neurosis come from?
And Now They Are One
Well, they pulled it off. My son and my New Daughter (that "in-law" stuff seems like a pretty impersonal way to talk about the love of my child's life) have joined hands and become husband and wife. And I'm here to tell you that their wedding was absolutely, positively the most beautiful event in the history of the world.
The plan was really amazing. The whole thing was held outdoors on the grounds surrounding the country home of their friend, Timmy. There was a "chapel" set up with bales of hay making up the pews and an arch beautifully decorated to form the altar. On the other side of the house there was a giant tent, decorated as elegantly as any banquet hall, to house the reception. There were neat signs, hand-painted on driftwood, and other clever details everywhere, all perfectly designed to make the wedding uniquely theirs.
OK, if you want to be technical about it, I'll admit that there were a few unexpected hitches in the celebration. Some elements did not come off exactly as planned. There were a few bumps in the road, a little sand in the peanut butter.
One Last Job Before The Big Day
The kids will be getting married in less than a week now. I find myself walking around with a big stupid grin on my 
face at the thought that my son - who I am pretty sure does not yet know how to tie his own necktie - will be standing up before God and all his pals to promise the rest of his life to his new bride. I am completely certain that Shannon and Pat will be the best bride and groom ever.
They live about two hours away from us, so I can only assume that all the preparations are going well. At least, we haven't received any hysterical phone calls. We did see this message posted to Shannon's Facebook page:
Things I need ASAP:
A.) Someone to drive an 18 passenger old school Dodge shuttle van from the hotel to the wedding site (approx 3 miles) from 4:30-5:30 & 10:30-11:30pm.
I can pay you, you just need to be sober.
B) A bagpiper that doesn't cost an arm and a leg from 5pm-6pm.
oh yeah... AND I need 3 strong boys that wanna help Pat get 2 300lb cement flower pots out of his truck tonight at the wedding site. They are VERY heavy!
Starting Out
My son is going to get married in a little less than a month. For Nan and I this is the coolest thing ever, since we are crazy about his fiance, her parents, her brother, her friends - and her taste in guys.
As the weeks go by, all the wedding plans are proceeding more or less normally for the kids, with nervousness over all the details spiraling steadily up past anxiety and into flat-out hysteria.
All this elaborate wedding plan stuff is a little bit foreign to Nan and me. Thirty-four years ago when we got married, we had a quick service in a tiny stone church (she wore a peasant dress, and I splurged for a sport coat) followed by a really fun potluck at a friend's house. With a pool.
Yes, the groom did go swimming with all the other kids.
The Night The Lights Went Out
"Wow, some storm out there," says Dad, standing by the window and staring at the dark night sky.
Little Suzie looks up from her pink "My Little Pony" laptop computer "The National Weather Service data shows a strong occluded front moving in, and it's generating a major thermal inversion."
"Nya nya nya inversion," chants Todd Jr., aiming a kick at his younger sister's computer and narrowly missing as she pulls it out of harm's way. "It's more like the wind is going to blow the whole world into outer space."
"Yeah, that's exactly what it's like," says Little Suzie.
"It's a perfect night to stay inside and watch Idol," says Mom.
At that moment the lights go out.
Spring Ski Trip, Part 3: A Visit To The East Possum Bladder Urgent Care
“How many fingers am I holding up?” asks the young woman in the maroon Mount Feverblister Ski Patrol jacket.
“Just one,” says Dad, “and I kind of wish you wouldn’t use that particular finger, turned around like that.”
“Ok Chad, he’s alert,” says the young woman. “Let’s get him strapped to the back board.”
“I’m not sure ‘alert’ would be the word I would choose,” says a young man, presumably Chad, also wearing a maroon Mount Feverblister Ski Patrol jacket and peering over the young woman’s shoulder. “An ‘alert,’ person wouldn’t have taken out that whole beginner’s class of hearing-impaired kids when he shot across the Bunny Hill.”
“I yelled, ‘Look Out!’” says Dad.
“Just after you crashed through that great big sign that said ‘Caution – Hearing-Impaired Kids.’”
