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!

I thought about picking up the phone to tell her that as a general rule you are better off if you don't cut corners when it comes to your bagpipers.

I could see in an instant, though, just why Pat had picked this amazing young woman to be his wife. There is a really charming practicality in listing sobriety as a stated prerequisite for the shuttle driver, and making certain that everyone was perfectly clear on the idea that those 300lb cement flower pots are VERY heavy.

One thing Shannon asked me to do for the wedding was to dig out and scan a bunch of snapshots of Pat growing up, so she could use them in a slide presentation. This was the best assignment ever, since I got to spend hours wading through pictures of my six-year old son running through Disney World with elastic-waisted shorts showcasing his knobby knees, and a Steamboat Willie sailor's hat pushing his ears out like little pink airplane wings.

There were shots of him in full-out snorkeling gear exploring a swimming pool in Florida while his mom and his grandparents sat in the shade talking about how Betty from the old hometown had a bad case of shingles. There were team pictures from ten years of youth ice hockey, showing my young warrior growing progressively taller and more mature in each frame, always leaning on a hockey stick and trying to look fierce for the camera. 

There were pictures of him practicing wakeboard tricks on the trampoline, then exploding into the water trying those tricks out behind the boat. There were shots of him dressing up Brenna the Dog in a Conquistador helmet, to the obvious (believe it or not) delight of Brenna the Dog.

There were pictures of him smiling through a chin caked with strained carrots, of him trying to tame a wild rocking horse, of him laughing hysterically at Mommy in a scooter cap.

On Saturday the kids will be starting out on their own journey. With a little luck will spend more years than they can imagine right now, building their new branch of the family and working their way through a wonderful maze of fun and fears and triumphs. 

Along the way maybe they will fill up a picture drawer or two of their own.

Copyright © 2009, Michael Ball