This time, it was Brian, one of our "blond brothers." He and his brother Brad (aka Big Brad) grew up across the street from my family, and we kids spent every waking moment together, trying unsuccessfully to maim or kill one another. (Not on purpose; we were just a rowdy bunch, and it really is a miracle we all survived childhood intact.) I call them my blond brothers because the only way you could tell us all apart in the mob was by hair color. If you had brown hair, you were a Dinsdale; if you had blond, you were a Roppé.
There was a giddiness in the air before the ceremony. Brian looked so proud (and tall!) in his tuxedo. He was very excited, as was his family. We were all in a bit of disbelief; no one could believe this day had finally arrived. Brian's mom asked me no less than four times if I could believe this was actually happening; we'd all had our doubts about Brian ever getting married.
My family (minus Smed the groomsman) outside the chapel (yes, that's a full moon behind them)But when the wedding started, all doubt was erased from our minds. Brian cried throughout most of the ceremony, while Colleen beamed at him with love and unabashed joy. When the chaplain asked if she took Brian to be her husband, she boomed confidently, "I DO!" The church erupted in laughter, then she looked at Brian and repeated, "I do." It was a wonderful moment.
Mr. and Mrs. Brian Roppé!Then it was on to the reception. Our family was split between two tables, but my brother Scott quickly rearranged one into a kid's table. The second generation of Dinsdale and Roppé kids (another mob of brown and blonde kids!) took up the kid's table, and I smiled at the sight of them all.
The kids were in heaven. Upon arriving at the reception, they'd been plied with all sorts of toys--coloring books, colored pencils, puzzles, games (Note to all future brides and grooms--this was a genius idea!). But the big hit was the box of glow sticks. At one point, Mark was wearing a glowing rainbow of bracelets, and told me he was going back for more. I suggested he remove the bracelets he had on first, to improve his chances of getting more. Apparently it worked, because by the end of the night, the kids had all worked together to make a giant hula-hoop-sized ring of glowsticks.
The kids were thoroughly entertained. We adults were happy, too. The open bar and warm appetizers helped, and the company was good. We spent a lot of time just laughing, with and at each other.
We watched all of the wedding rituals--first dance, cutting of the cake. Brian and Colleen invited all the other married couples to the floor to dance, then kicked them off according to how many years they'd been wed. Slowly, a winning couple appeared.
Yahoo for my parents!"Please congratulate Ralph and Virginia Dinsdale!" the man with the microphone announced. "They've been married for 48 years!"
"Yep, and 27 of them happily!" I joked to the people around me. We all clapped and cheered them on. It was awesome to see my parents on the dance floor having so much fun.
But my favorite part was the roast--err, best man's speech. Big Brad took his job very seriously, and with a straight face, congratulated Brian and Colleen. And then, with equal seriousness, he told the crowd that Brian was a stand-up guy, offering up as proof "the BB gun incident."
All he had to say was "BB gun" and our half of the room fell to the floor with laughter. Brad regaled us with the infamous story of how he and my brother Tim turned their little brothers into moving targets, pelting them with BBs. This story is a legend in our families, and we laughed uncotrollably at Big Brad's hilarious version of it.
And that moment reminded us we Dinsdales and Roppés have a very sick sense of humor. My sister-in-law Mary pointed to the other side of the room and whispered, "Look at them--they're HORRIFIED at this story!" It was true--the bride's side of the room sat in silence, mouths agape, gasping at the awful story. Meanwhile, our side of the room was in tears, also gasping, but only because they were laughing too hard.
It was living proof that you can dress us up and take us out, but eventually, we still revert back to those immature kids growing up together.
(For the record, the bride's side of the family also gave speeches. Her maid of honor and father toasted with wonderfully sweet, emotional words, which the other side of the room loved. It was very nice!)
It was on to dinner, dancing, and cake, and then suddenly, the lights came on. The party was over much too soon, for us anyway. We collected up the children and glowsticks, hugged the bride and groom one last time, and made our way home, still laughing.
Congrats, Brian and Colleen! Thank you for including us all in your celebration!
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