I did not cry at Melissa’s wedding because I cried when I met the guy. I knew right away that he was the one. He was way too sane and stable for Melissa to ever let go.
So I let go of Melissa, right there, when I met him. I said some bossy things, like, “You better be really reliable because that’s what she needs.” And I said things you’d never want to hear from anyone like, “You better hurry up and have kids because Melissa’s eggs are dying.”
He did not say, can you shut up because I have lived my life just fine without your advice. Instead, he reassured me. And he hugged me when I cried. Not the when-is-this-going-to-be-over hug that I get from my kids. It was an I-think-we’ll-get-along hug.
My experience of the lead-up to Melissa’s wedding was like being with the most competent wedding planner handling all aspects of her own wedding and getting rid of less competent people at every possible moment while still being on a diet so strict it did not include food.
My sons were in the wedding. They did not jump for joy when they found out. They thought it was their natural place.
As the moment got closer they asked, “What do we do? What will happen? What’s our job?”
I told them, “It’s Melissa’s wedding so you do whatever she asks.”
I have never seen them look more loyal and reliable as they stood under the huppa next to Melissa. And I have never seen Melissa look so sweet and doting as she did, surrounded by the boys and her brand new husband.
For most of the wedding it was my job to hug Melissa and tell her I love her.
And to make her take off her 5-inch heels for the hora. And it was also my job to make a toast.
Melissa’s husband’s job is to assess risk. He decided that the other person making a toast was a sure bet — he’s always good. But I would either be amazing or horrifying, so they had the other person go second in case he needed to repair damage.
I was great. Of course. Even though Melissa made me wear that feather thing in my hair.
You might notice my son hunched down, covering his ears. He was scared to hear what was coming next. But all good toasts make the listeners a little bit nervous.
You can listen to me giving the toast on Patreon. Which means you will have to pay at least $1 to see it. Which means I’ve monetized my best friend’s wedding. You’d do the same thing if you had to wear those feathers.