Weddings usually bring to mind neurotic brides starving themselves to fit into a white dress and grooms wondering if this wonder-beast bridezilla will recede after the wedding or be bound to him forever. But this weekend, I attended the most wholesomely happy wedding I have ever witnessed.
The bride, a spry young lady in her 70’s, wore purple with sequins and was escorted down the aisle by her son. She finally got the church wedding that she wanted and that the war prevented in her earlier years. The groom, nearing 80, was a hopeless romantic with tears streaming down his face and who was revived by the opportunity to find a partner for the next love story in his life. The joy and the tears shed in that church were so pure and honest. Both of the lovebirds had stood by their spouses through years of terrible sickness. Carol lost her husband, Bill, about 4 1/2 years ago, and Larry lost his wife about 6 years ago. They were wholly committed to their spouses. They knew the sorrows that these vows could bring, they knew the joys, and they choose to give love another chance. They have an understanding of their vows that most 20-year-olds just can’t yet appreciate. And there they stood, in love, elated, young romantics again.
Beside the couple stood their children as bridesmaids and groomsmen. It was not the traditional wedding in many ways, but it gives me some hope that my eventual wedding day would be happy too, even if my father cannot be there to walk me down the aisle. I also ‘caught’ the bouquet. This was largely because I was the ONLY single person over the age of 12 at the wedding. Maybe some of the honest love shared between these two will dust off on me through the flowers I caught. But regardless, I’m glad I got to be there to witness the continuing and living of life, no matter what the age.