If We Had A Million Dollars....

AllTheJoy
ThereIsVille


Yesterday our friend A. got married to her partner B.

We have known A. since, well, forever.

And her Mom K. has saved us more than once or twice, or maybe even fifty times, since we returned to Vancouver from our days of wonder living in our second favorite city in the whole wide world.

So, it was no surprise that A. was the flower girl at our wedding.

And, even more so, you probably won't be surprised to hear that our youngest, littler e., was the flower girl yesterday.

Using the same basket for the petals that A. used 16 years ago.

****

Our other daughter, Bigger E., was in the wedding party too.

But instead of bringing the flowers E. brought the song - a beautiful a capella version of the Sarah Slean tune called 'I Will Love You'.

It came just after the vows.

And there was not a dry eye in the place.

Both of mine included.

Then they released the doves.....

****

After that it was all fun.

My wife C. and a gaggle of her friends spent most of their time in the kitchen of the Aberthau House cranking out the food, course after course, with cooking channel/reality TeeVee show-like jocularity, precision, selective editting and laughter.

Mostly I tried to make myself useful by acting as the goatherder/crowd control guy - moving folks from one place to the other for pictures/receiving lines/toasts/food/drink and various other assorted sundry items.

Which didn't really matter all that much in the end because this was an event that had everything such events have always, and probably always will, have......

Very old people and very young people (and a Pinata!); inside formality and outside informality for the periodic escape and respite that everybody needs; stories and tales of all sorts, some straight-ahead, some touching, some mumbled, some silly; brothers, sisters, cousins and parents and pride and the wonder of it all turning out so well, along with a crazed uncle with really, really important things to say that no one could really understand; whooping and hollering that culminated with much screaming to release the witches during the cake cutting; the first dance, the slow dancing, and then, finally, the crazed young people dancing to music that has mostly passed this old geezer by.

And then, just as things reached their peak, the two E's and me* slipped out into the night (me, always prepared with headlamp) to work on our own contribution to the festivities which we sang at the party's end.....

'Falling Slowly' by Hansard and Irglova (you may have heard of them by now).

And then that old war horse from the Barenaked Ladies that we turned into 'If WE Had a Million Dollars (....We would build you a park....with Shakespeare Shows and Skateboards which, along with their beautiful baby L. who they cradled as we sang to them, are two of Aidy and B.'s passions) and everybody joined in the choruses, so much so that I couldn't hear myself play, which was alright in the finest of the finest kind kind of way.

Indeed.

****

And after that the very oldest and the very youngest folks began to drift away as the bride, the groom and the baby whisked themselves away and all the mad, dancing kids rushed off to the clubs.

And then, when all was quiet in empty driveway, A.'s Dad told me he was so happy he was having a little trouble actually comprehending it.

Back in the still bustling kitchen those that were left behind helped C. and friends clean up, and I did too for awhile before I took the two E's home in the VW (notso)Microbus.

We listened to my latest mad-tabbing passion, Wilco, down low while talked about weddings.

And as we approached the great divide littler e. mentioned that she thought I looked like the guy who had been playing the warm-up music before the ceremony.

I could see the resemblance, to a point.

But Bigger E. was emphatic, saying that I looked like way more like Captain Von Trapp.

Which I most certainly do not, of course.

But given how his character evolves, and how he comes to embrace the artistic efforts of his kids, I was well, touched.

All over again.

But I didn't cry.

But then again....

It was pretty dark in the Microbus.

So neither E. would have known, even if I did shed a tear of joy or two.

OK?




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*Of course, if I had written this for my grammatically rigourous grade 5 teacher Mrs. Griffiths I would have written 'the two E.'s and I'; thing is, I just like the sound, phonetically and otherwise, of the phrase "the two E.s and me". OK (again)?

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