Herb Benham: A toast to everlasting love
Oct. 17—"They've always seemed married. From the first time they met, or maybe the first time I saw them together. They knew before they knew."
That was how I started my toast at the welcome dinner for Thomas and Alicia at Short & Main in Gloucester, Mass.
Thomas is our youngest and Alicia is now our daughter-in-law. It's not uncommon to feel as if you hit the lottery with a daughter- or son-in-law and both sets of parents did and so did Thomas and Alicia.
We feel like we won because both are loyal, independent and the "favorite children" in their families. Thomas, the favorite, according to his sister and brothers, and Alicia because as an only child she didn't have a lot of competition.
They acted as if they had always been married, except it was no act. They could give lessons on communicating, talking things through. Hanging in there until the discussion is done, even if hanging in there takes you well past your bedtime.
----There is a moment when a wedding becomes real and for me it was the rehearsal, which took place at Alicia's parents home next to her grandfather's horse farm in Ipswich.
During the rehearsal, I watched Thomas, his brothers, Sam and Herbie, and friend Thomas Baker stand next to Alicia and her friends from childhood and college. Our youngest is getting married. Life is moving on and we are moving with it.
Flocks of swallows flew to and fro. They were "murmuring," said Alicia's mother, Sheryl. "They're gathering the birds so nobody is left behind to brave the winter chill when they fly south."
I'm not sure there was a parallel between the birds and the people who gathered to celebrate, but it reminded me of Bruce Springsteen's song describing his own wedding:
"We said we'd walk together, baby come what may
"That come the twilight should we lose our way
"If as we're walking a hand should slip free
"I'll wait for you
"And should I fall behind
"Wait for me."
----The next day, as the ceremony began, Sue and I walked across the grassy hill on the Crane estate, then down the aisle between the 100 people sitting in white chairs. On the bride's side, the first seat was empty save a brown sport coat with a button or two missing and a photo of Alicia's father, John, who died a few years ago of cancer. When her dad was sick, Alicia came home from Colorado and saw him through to the end.
When she walked to her place at the front, Alicia laid a rose from her bouquet on his seat.
The toasts at the reception were brief and well-planned. Alicia's stepfather, Rick, gave an inclusive, bring-everybody-together toast.
He explained he loves Alicia like she was his own biological child.
"She is loyal and as we say in Boston, she will be 'your cornerman for life,'" Rick said.
Her dad knew that and so did Rick.
The maid of honor's toast was tender and loving. Sam, in his toast, balanced the sweetness with the opposite.
"I'm so glad you found each other because nobody else would have either one of you."
Thomas and Alicia had each other and that was enough. Weddings can be trying for the people who are getting married because they have to touch so many bases, but I couldn't imagine a happier couple or one who had more fun. They danced as if they'd practiced for months, which they had. It was hard not to join in and, without exception, everybody did.
----Before the wedding, we'd spent a few days with friends in Concord, N.H. On the last day, they took us on a long hike in the White Mountains. Claudia finished a few hundred yards behind and when she met us was carrying a bouquet of white flowers that she had picked by the stream.
"These are called everlasting," she said. "I found some on our wedding day 48 years ago."
At the end of my toast, I gave them to Thomas and Alicia.
Everlasting flowers. It felt right for a couple who seem as if they have been married forever.
Contact The Californian's Herb Benham at 661-395-7279 or hbenham@bakersfield.com. His column appears on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays; the views expressed are his own.
