It finally happened. My brother got married. After six months of bachelor parties, annoying questions from friends and relatives, and watching my brother’s poor new mother-in-law slowly pull every follicle of hair out of her overburdened head, my brother tied the knot with his grade-school sweetheart. Yes, people, they’ve been together since grade school.
In fact, they were married at their grade school’s church, Immaculate Heart of Mary on Indy’s north side. It’s the same church my parents were married in over 30 years ago. Here’s a picture of it:
Even though it’s all over, I’m starting to feel a little guilty. Not because I gave the newlyweds a lame gift (it’s a roaster or something that cooks chicken sideways), but because I never helped my brother’s mother-in-law (my BMIL).
I know what you’re thinking: How helpful would a single, disorganized, classless young man be in planning a wedding? Typically, not very helpful. In fact, I would say most young men would be a significant distraction rather than an advantage. But I’m not typical. I’m a member of the List, which means I have access to the best wedding planners, calligraphers, limousine services, tuxedo rentals, caterers, chefs, dance instructors (my brother could’ve used one), florists, bridal shops and more.
I could’ve used the List to hook my BMIL up with a cool wedding cake designer who could make an apple spice and caramel mousse wedding cake based on “The Kiss” by Gustav Klimt.
Or maybe I could have passed along a florist to provide creative options like seasonal, local wedding flowers.
Regardless, I doubt I could’ve passed along a wedding planner. Even if it was a wedding planner who could set up a “green” or “sustainable” wedding, I think my BMIL wouldn’t want to relinquish her control.
And, quite honestly, a professional wedding planner wasn’t needed. Jenny (my BMIL) did a great job. She coordinated everybody perfectly, everything looked beautiful and the wedding was pulled off without a hitch.
Unless you count one of my other brothers coming out of the bathroom with a dripping wet camera as a hitch. Apparently he fumbled the camera at a critical moment when it probably should’ve been in his pocket.
Looks like I can redeem my guilt by looking up camera repair on the List.
What exactly did he have his camera out at that moment for, anyway?
You’ll have to ask him.