My bloggy friend Noyb (aka: Single Mormon Chick) has requested that I blog about the events of the wedding. She finds LDS men who re-marry quickly a fascinating topic. I must say that the timing of the wedding six months after his wife passed away was not at all shocking to any of us. This is the second time he has rebounded quickly after losing a wife to cancer. The first time was with my mother and his single life lasted about 3 months that time. There are no shortage of widows in Utah Valley and my Dad was definitely looking to re-marry as soon as possible. He just doesn't do well without a spouse. My sisters and I cleaned his house for him before the reception of people that were coming, and it was pretty clear that clutter and dust (not to mention urine stains) don't bother him much. He could totally afford a cleaning lady if he wanted one, but it was just not a priority. His priority was finding a new bride. I would call and talk to him about once a week from Maryland and hear about all the new gals he'd been taking out. I knew it wouldn't be long. I can't really explain it except to say that he is an 81 yr old who is a mover and a shaker!
I am glad to report that his new bride seemed to be everything I had heard from those who knew her. When we first met and I introduced myself she hugged me once and said "that's for being you" then hugged me twice and said "and that's for coming so far to be here" I was tickled with this validating way to greet me. She was witty, fun, welcoming, artsy, eclectic, nervous, and lovely. Her home was where she wanted to be married and although I didn't understand that at first, (why not a chapel where more family members could be present?), after seeing her place it made more sense to me. When you walked through the entry way there was another set of doors to go through but before that, you were greeted by a huge 20 yr old rubber-tree plant that had been growing up through the earth below. They must have built the house around it and I sensed that this home was special to her. She had placed votive candles throughout the leaves and branches. I loved looking at all the old photos of her family on the walls in her home. There were old school photos of her children, black and white photos of her as an airline stewardess in front of a plane, photos of her first husband who'd been killed in Vietnam who was quite the looker! Prom photos, family photos, kids with dreadlocks and bare shoulders on the beaches of Hawaii, kids playing violin or rock climbing. It was not a fancy display with matching frames equally spaced and level, but it was a testament of a loving mother, and it touched me. Another thing that touched me was the glass display case full of dolls from all nations. Not only was the amount impressive but the fact that I interpreted this to mean that she appreciated diversity, and that she was accepting. Not always an easy trait to find in a step mother I have found. The ceremony was simple and she recited some John Denver lyrics to my Dad and he repeated them back to her. There was a flower giving and taking with kisses on cheeks arranged by her I am certain. It was sweet. Then her cute grand daughter threw petals in celebration. My uncle made a horrible insulting toast and my 'cream of the crop' brother redeemed our family with some more appropriate words about how my Dad accepted his step children (calling them "chosen" children) wholeheartedly some 41 years ago. I know there was to be some cataract surgery on the groom the following Monday and my Dad said they would be honeymooning in a cave up the canyon somewhere, so I haven't called. I wish them all the best. Especially when they try and combine all her stuff with his into one house. That will be quite the test indeed. If they can make it through that they can make it through anything.