My Brother's Wedding

"Cause when she sings I hear a symphony
And I'm swallowed in sound as it echoes through me
I'm renewed, oh how I feel alive
And through autumn's advancing
We'll stay young, go dancing."
 - Stay Young Go Dancing, by Death Cab For Cutie


My second brother, the middle child of the family, is married now. Six days before the ceremony, I flew from Ecuador to Texas so I could see him and his beautiful bride say "I do", while my Dad officiated the ceremony. When he told me "Thanks for coming ... from another country," hugging me tight, it meant the world to me.

The ceremony was in a rustic barn on the bride's parent's property, fresh swept and filled with folding wooden chairs and white twinkle lights. The reception was both under a huge white tent and also spilling onto the yard, where quilt-covered hay bales were set up as seats, and a black-and-white checkered dance floor was set up under lights and a row of umbrellas strung between two trees.

The wind that day caused the bride's family to worry and put up a wall of tarps against one side of the tent, though it faded as the day went on and by afternoon all was lovely. When my family and I arrived, the finishing touches were all being put in place. I helped arrange vase after vase of flowers along the tables which overflowed with color, the whole wedding having a whimsical circus and festival theme. The photographer rushed around capturing everything. When the bride was ready, she held a huge balloon and waited for my brother as he stepped out of the barn with a balloon too, as they got pictures of their 'first look'. I caught glimpses of them embracing, kissing, and of him lifting her up into his arms.

The ceremony was simple and perfect. My other four brothers were all groomsman. I sat near the front and marveled at the sight of them, so dapper in their vests, jackets, ties and bow ties, and even their bright, fun socks peeking above their serious shoes. They were all so handsome, tall, and strong, similar and yet completely their own. Tall dark and handsome - isn't that what girls have long dreamed of? There in front of everyone, five tall, dark, handsome men, standing beside our wonderful, kind father. My brothers whom I love so much, one of them getting married to a gorgeous girl who loves him ever, ever so much.

Then there was the four of us sisters and our Mom: also beautiful and happy. My youngest sister, wearing a flowered dress and yellow wedges she picked out herself, he first pair of heals, growing more graceful all the time while still having the sweet girlishness she will hopefully always keep.

There was the reception dinner under the white tent, the toasts from the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, the latter making many people cry with how she said her best friend had picked such a good man, and the father-daughter dance and the first dance of the new couple. Soon the dance floor was opened up for everyone and three of us sisters went out to dance. It was probably the first time my youngest sister had ever danced before, and it made me so happy that she went out there and had fun. The truth is, I am not a good dancer. I know this. I probably look ridiculous. But most of the time, I don't care. I don't dance very often, so when I do I let myself get lost to the music and the energy and everyone around me. We danced and danced. At one point, the DJ played the classic Springsteen song "Living On A Prayer", and everyone on the dance floor started to sing along. We sang, "Oh, we're half-way there," when the DJ cut the music, but without missing a beat everyone turned to sing/shout towards him, "Oh oh! Living on a prayer!" The music returned and everyone was grinning, laughing, singing, and dancing. There were songs which came on which I wouldn't have chosen, ones I knew the words to from the radio but whose sentiments I might not agree with. However they cut in and out at a rapid pace, and all that mattered was the energy of being there with everyone else and dancing, sometimes with my brother and his bride, always with my second sister, who is in fact a very good dancer, moving naturally and easily across the floor.

There was the cutting of the cake and the tossing of the bouquet. There were hugs, pictures, and goodbyes, before the moment when the glowing couple set off for their new life together. Then there was the clean-up and the contented sighs for the close of a beautiful evening.

There's a picture I keep in my head of my brother and his wife, from a time when they were newly engaged. We had all been out as a family to celebrate my Dad's birthday, and as we were walking back to our cars my brother jumped up onto a little concrete railing and walked with his arms out, like he was on a tight-rope. In a flash, his fiance had followed suit, jumping up to join in the same little game. When my brother came to the end of the railing and jumped down, he didn't even have to look back at his fiance. His hand was already in the air, waiting for her to take it. She did, jumping down beside him, the two of them holding hands as they walked on. That picture of them is special to me: his hand waiting for her, knowing she would want it, and her so effortlessly taking it, knowing he'd be there.