I’m going to a wedding this weekend…my first since D-day.
My oldest son is the best man, he has been best friends with the young man since he was 5. We as a family have known the bride and groom since they were born. It’s a small town remember?
If I didn’t love these two I’d skip it, but for the ones we love we do hard things….at least I do. I have no use for cowards and I will watch these two say “I Do”. They love each other, so it will be easier to watch. Me being me, I already threatened them both.
“Be good to each other or I’ll kick your asses…cheat on one another and I’ll pluck you bald…”
I was tipsy, Bloody Mary’s and an empty stomach make me honest and blunt.
I’m glad I got it off my chest, I’m sure they preferred the lecture in our barn instead of at their wedding.
They are babies, and they are getting married. I will be there helping with the reception, handing out cake with my future daughter in law. If I cry it will be for joy, they love each other and are getting married…if I cry it will be because a long time ago I felt the same way.
My hope for them? Happily Ever After…