Water Works: My Baby Sister’s Wedding
Since I couldn’t keep back the tears, I thought it only fair to post the toast I gave at my sisters wedding. It was an amazing night. One of those moments when you step back and realize what is happening will be etched in your mind for eternity.
My fathers toast, “I’m supposed to picture all of you naked.” My mother’s inability to keep it together during the service. My sisters best friends dancing the night away. My brothers slipping a beer.
It was truly a special night.
Bethany Laurel Clair Antinita Young
In the end it was a pink bag. Not the ring, save the date announcement, purple Mazda always in our driveway.
Nope, it was a pink bag hanging ever so casually in your room hiding the dress you are wearing now that told me you were getting married.
The next three hours will be interfused into hundreds of sequential split second events. The first dance, cutting of the cake, kissing while precariously perched atop eight men’s shoulders.
But something else is going to happen tonight. Something that I want you to cherish. After running down the stairs, out the door and into the crisp night air, I want you to turn around before slipping inside your getaway car. Turn around, and for one last time tonight, be lost in the emotions of others. And when you close the door, and are suddenly enveloped in quietness so load, you can hear your own heart fluttering.
I want you to remember the little girl who watched My Best Friends wedding so many times the tape nearly wore out.
Remember the little girl who dressed up early for every wedding and sat by the door with an enthusiasm reserved usually for the bride.
Remember the girl who came to her brother late on a summer day, and said ever so casually she was in love.
The girl who would rather have a Bunny Shoe gift certificate than flowers. (Don’t ever forget that Steven.)
The girl who only moments before, was in a whirlwind of euphoric emotion, running down the stairs, hand in hand with her husband; her best friend.
Bethany, when you look back for the final time, before sliding down in your seat, feet forward, his hand on your knee, remember that you have a family who loves you. A family who is still standing there, watching the taillights, unable to turn out of a love formed by so many years of kindness, gentleness and happiness.
Bethany and Steven. Steven and Bethany. The Young’s.