Missing pieces

Recent events have me thinking more about all the pieces that will be missing from our wedding day.

I'm not talking about some jewel-encrusted something-or-other, or gloves for the servers, or uplighting, or any of those material things.  I'm thinking of people.  For various reasons, some of the most important people in my life won't be there to celebrate my day with me.

I've joked a lot through this process that ambassadors should be required to plan their own weddings as part of their training in diplomacy.  There is something to be said for going through a highly emotional process with your partner and standing together through all of it...and coming out on the other side, transformed together but still the same.  Thinking about it, weddings seem to be the only transformational life event that we tend to have control over.  Births, deaths...God controls those details, no matter what we try.  Weddings, though, are firmly in our court.

Choosing to have our wedding in New Jersey meant a likely sacrifice of most of my family's attendance.  I used to say that the only things that would be important in my wedding would be my mom, sisters and Grammy in attendance, and that I'd get married in a shack if that was what it took for them to be there.  Of course, my Grammy's health is such that she can't make the trip, but I know she'll be celebrating in spirit (and maybe in a nightclub, since she's such a wild woman).  We'll visit her this summer after the wedding, once we have pictures, and we can relive the whole day then.

Due to the complex logistics that travel entails, many other family members will be unable to attend as well...but again, that's what photos are for, right?  At least I know our images will capture all the details and all the emotion of the day.

I made that choice, though...George and I made it together.  With our loved ones scattered geographically, there was no easy solution, so we opted for what seemed to be the greatest good for the greatest number.  That meant a tiny reception venue (good for us in planning and keeping it intimate and manageable), having it in New Jersey (good for people in New Jersey and easier than Florida for our Boston friends) and a host of other compromises I made because that's what marriage is about.  It's hard, but we controlled those choices.  At this point, not making peace with that is just self-absorbed...wallowing.

What I find myself thinking about the most lately, though, is the empty seat that Andrew won't fill.  Andrew, my little brother in every sense that feels like it matters, whose laugh and giggle and wry sense of humor and ridiculously smart jokes would have me in stitches at any given moment, won't look at our pictures this summer.  He won't make fun of our mostly-vegetarian menu and tell me that I really should have included more cow.  He won't dance with my sisters...or stubbornly refuse to, either.  He won't politely oblige a big, emotional hug because he's old enough now not to run away when I open my arms anymore.

He will, however, be with us.  In a stronger way than anyone else who will be celebrating in spirit from far away, I truly believe Andrew WILL be celebrating with us.  I just really hope he lets me keep my shoes on.