I’m putting on my suit for my nephew’s wedding. Jack and Kristin are getting married today on a perfect September day in Portland, Maine. It’s true: I own only one viable suit, and I haven’t worn it since . . . there’s something in the jacket pocket, and I pull it out—a memorial card for Thomas Grande, Jack’s uncle who passed away last year.
This is my wedding and funeral suit. I last wore it at the wake for Thomas, but today’s appearance—in honor of the same family—marks a joyous occasion.
The wedding is remarkable for its emotional resonance and deep expressions of love. Under a sky of sunshine and passing clouds, in a meadow surrounded by the verdant green of Maine’s forests, Jack and Kristin exchange vows in front of 160 celebrants.
I’ve never witnessed a ceremony quite like this. The officiant—Fred, a close friend of the couple—offers a warm and rich profile of Jack and Kristin, reaching into their characters and highlighting their love for each other, sharing their meet-cute origins eight years ago: how Jack was applying for a master’s degree program and Kristin happened to work in the college’s admissions office. Perhaps she screened him for more than his academic credentials?
And then Jack and Kristin speak their hand-written vows to each other. It seems younger generations are aware of and able to articulate their feelings in ways that would have been impossible for me at their age. They know each other well, can express themselves, and are clear on the reasons for their love and commitment. They have to work through tears to say what they need to say. My eyes are wet too.
After the ceremony and a lively cocktail hour, we are seated for dinner. The toasts begin. Jack’s father, Steve, speaks about how grateful they all are for the joy and love of this occasion after the pain of losing his brother, Tom. I finger the prayer card in my jacket pocket.
Friends get up and speak and raise their glasses to Jack and Kristin. I learn more about those two than I’ve ever known, even though I’ve known Jack all his life. How special they are. How loved they are. How kind, caring, and generous they are.
The dinner, the cake, the music, the dancing. Night falls. I loosen my tie. Soon I’ll change back into my regular clothes. I’ll hang up my suit and keep it in my closet until the next wedding or funeral. Please let it be a wedding, as beautiful as this one.
