My brother Matt got married to Erica last Saturday. It was good. On the one hand, it was good because nothing went so wrong that it couldn’t be fixed. Little things went amiss, causing worry and distraction and tears, but they were soon fixed. I mean, come on. The bridesmaids all wore strapless dresses, and while they all looked good, if that wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen, I don’t know what would be. On the other hand, it was good because it was good. They got married. It was good.
Erica’s speech at the reception started out, “I’d like to thank the people at Cover Girl for making waterproof makeup…” She’d started crying on the way up the aisle, and I think about half the women in the church started crying with her. I did. I got myself back together before I had to stand up and read, and then I almost started crying again during the readings. Silly old girls, I guess.
Ray was one of the flower girls. She and the other girl, Erica’s niece Jasmine, were as good as two little giggly girls can be. They walked straight up the middle of the church and stood where they were supposed to, and we didn’t even need to bribe them.
I got to see my cousin Heather, her husband Ian, their daughter Xia Mara (which means “Ready for Battle” if I remember it correctly), and Ian’s son Elric, who has maraschino cherry-colored hair. I haven’t seen her for at least ten years, probably more. It was good to talk to her, even though half the time we had to yell at each other and repeat ourselves. Ian is exactly the sort of man I would have picked out for her, so that’s all right, too. And Elric is the kind of adolescent who can take teasing about his name with good humor, which is pretty remarkable.
There are other things I’m not saying, but, all in all, my brother is getting married. I told Mom before I left, “I feel like he’s getting really married this time.” He’s grown into a good man, and it’s good to see that he’s with someone who will make him laugh and tease him as they grow old.