My two sons were married within a year of each other. I need to say upfront that nothing is more important in my life than my three kids and now my two (soon to be three) grandchildren. I have always enjoyed participating in their lives. The weddings of my sons were very significant occasions my life.
The first son was married in an outdoor ceremony on the grounds of one of the many beautiful country clubs that the Myrtle Beach area is famous for. I was a groomsman and very proud to be part of this event. As father of the groom, I honchoed the rehearsal dinner. It was held in a clubhouse on the beach and I had it catered southern style: barbecue and all the fixin’s. Many of the guests were from the north and had not experienced a genuine pig picking. Since most of the attendees were coming from out of town and arriving early, we elected to invite all invited guests to the rehearsal dinner, instead of the customary participants. Nearly all of them were able to attend. As a result, we ran low on food long before I was ready to stop serving. I ended up running to a local pizza place and buying a dozen or so pies to supplement our spread. It was a great party and everyone seemed to enjoy the day. The wedding went off without a hitch, even though we were worried about an outdoor affair in the sweltering heat of August. I have many fond memories of that weekend, which I felt very much a part of.
The second son was married in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, a God-awful place, which looks like Myrtle Beach without the attraction of the beaches. The ceremony took place in one of those tacky chapels that usher one wedding out one door as another is entering through another door. The proprietors were rude and surly, as was the photographer. I was not a part of this wedding at all. The rehearsal dinner was a weenie roast at a cabin in the mountains conducted by one of the bride’s many uncles or cousins. I was invited, though I definitely felt like a crasher at a family reunion. I was such an outsider to the wedding that I was told I would not need a tux, until the last minute when it was decided that it would be better for the wedding photographs if I did not wear my golf attire, so I was allowed to rent a tux. It was not necessary, since I was only included in one photo (which I did not receive a copy of), while even the most obscure, shirttail cousins of the bride were posed in every possible combination. Anyone viewing the wedding album would assume my son is an orphan. I am surprised my son allowed to keep his name. Not even a hyphen. But, I felt the most sorry for my ex-wife (mother of the groom) who was shown absolutely no respect at the wedding. She was not even escorted into the chapel. She had to find her own seat and endure the same embarrassing questions by other guests that I did: “Who are you? With the bride or groom?” While a child's wedding is of great importance to the dad, it is doubly so for the mom. She flew across the country to be dissed. I have exactly the same amount of happy memories of that weekend as I have photos to commemorate it.
I have been counseled to use this forum to discuss things that bother me in lieu of my previous method of holding it in until I destroy property and inflict grievous bodily harm on others. When the Sunday Scribbling’s prompt was “Wedding”, this is the first thing that came to mind. It was not written to hurt anyone’s feelings. It is just an honest account of these two events and the contrast in the way they were conducted.
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