My brother got married last weekend. My youngest, supposedly confirmed-bachelor brother had chosen a wonderful woman with whom to share his life.
Before God and family, Dave and Christie took their vows and professed their love and commitment to each other on a glorious, late summer afternoon. In the days since, I have returned to the wedding’s most memorable moments many times: the joyful tears, the family reunions, the heartfelt toasts and humorous speeches. Those most clearly embedded, however, are not of the newly married couple but of a long-married couple: my parents, who no doubt recalled moments of their own summer wedding over 56 years ago.
Though my dad is in a wheelchair and my mom has trouble walking, they remained an integral part of the ceremony and photographs. Once dinner was served and dancing began, however, they lingered at their table, watching the festivities from a short distance with a few other relatives. The day had been joyous, albeit exhausting, for my dad, and he was content to chat with a distant cousin and smile with my mother as their own wedding song played. Then, when the DJ invited all married couples up to share a special dance, his strength suddenly returned. He was not going to sit this one out.
Slowly, deliberately, and with a little help from his cousin, my dad stood and, using his cane, walked a few feet from the table. Aged and bent, he couldn’t make it to the dance floor but took my mother’s hand in his. Gently, they swayed to the music, supporting each other and enjoying a quiet, loving moment. My parents danced not the dance of their youth, but the one of a couple who has together shared the joys and endured the struggles that constitute a strong marriage of 56 years.
Teary-eyed, my aunt snapped a quick photo. “Your dad was not going to miss dancing with his bride,” she said to me. “That is true love.”
Earlier that day during the ceremony, the priest blessed Dave and Christie as they took their vows, saying, “We pray in the name of the One Most Holy that they become a source of hope and strength for each other as they unite today in God’s presence.” My brother and his wife, both in their 40s, had already experienced joys and struggles apart and then, with those vows, began their married life together. They were surely not thinking about what the next decades would bring, but I hoped, years from now, that they would share a dance similar to my parents’, having supported each other with grace and love.
As Catholics, we look to God for strength and hope, praying for his continued blessings. And here on Earth, we are inspired by those who have remained faithful to him, be it in a long, enduring marriage or in any other aspect of this beautiful life he has given us.
For my brothers and me, our spouses and our children, that inspiration comes from my parents, and no visible sign shows it more clearly than that quiet dance they shared.
