Late in May 2007, I found myself sitting in the living room of my friends L. and M., giggling as he teased her about various ways he might choose to propose to her. I remember getting on the PA system at Target being suggested, as well as a few other equally public and potentially embarrassing options. Finally one of them turned to me and said “Aren’t you going to help me out here?”
My response was “What do you want me to do, offer to officiate?” The wisecrack turned out to be fateful. This past Saturday afternoon found me standing on the porch steps at Morris-Butler House in Indianapolis, judge pro temp appointment duly obtained, with two of the people who are dearest to me standing in front of me in formal wear listening to the wedding ceremony that was my gift to them. Both of them were glowing, so full of delight that I half expected at least one of them to float away like a balloon. The band, also friends of mine, had equipped me with a headset microphone so I could be heard over the noise of the nearby interstate. (That was a first; I don’t usually require artificial amplification.) I gather I did a reasonable job of it, judging by the compliments I got afterwards, but I suspect I could have simply asked them if they wished to be married and pronounced them so and they would have been happy. The weather was perfect, with rain holding off until not only the reception but most of the cleanup was complete. Everything was as lovely as one could wish for them.
The spring before we moved, I introduced them to each other, just because I thought they’d be great friends. I can claim credit for that, but not for anything else. What is between them they have built themselves. Now I’ve had the honor and privilege of performing their wedding ceremony, a development no one had any idea of in Spring of 2005. I’m delighted, but it’s they whose happiness lit up the day, and that is exactly as it should be.