I pray for Kenny and Tommy to marry nice girls. They're only toddlers, but I figure you can't start too early.
Slightly embarrassed, Kenny responds. "She doesn't like sour cream, Dad."
 |
| Kenny and Savanna |
Kenny is a freshman at Denver University when he falls in love the first time. He brings home a girl too shy to speak to us directly.
"Would you like sour cream with your enchiladas?" my husband John politely asks at dinner. She is horrified to be put on the spot in such a blatant manner. Finally she whispers her preference to Kenny.
Slightly embarrassed, Kenny responds. "She doesn't like sour cream, Dad."
The next day I start a 58 day Novena prayer. It's what Desperate Catholic Mothers do. I plead with God. "Get rid of her,"
By day 23 she's history. But I finish the Novena anyway. I like to cover all my bases. It is the last time I pray for a girl to go away. I'm not entirely comfortable ordering God around like a mafia hit man.
Two years ago, Kenny brings home Savanna. "Vannie", he calls her. She has purple hair, majors in English, is a sometime vegetarian, and waits tables to put herself through school. My big, gruff husband doesn't scare her in the least.
"You're a vegetarian?" John says in mock horror. "I killed a buffalo for you!"
She cocks an eyebrow. "I didn't say I was a good vegetarian."
I like this girl. I like her a lot. Kenny does, too. In fact, it's as plain as the nose on his face that he adores her. Laughing, they tell us how they meet each for the first time through an online dating site. Kenny has posted a ridiculous photo of himself. He has decided, he explains, to be completely honest. Vannie, when she sees the photo, makes a quick decision.
"I figure either he's a complete freak," she tells us, "or that he's the perfect guy for me."
She's the perfect girl for him, too. Vannie falls in love not only with Kenny but with his big dog Sarge. Vannie, in fact, is passionate about all animals. She interns for a pet shelter and bonds with mysterious breeds of animals that I am afraid to look at let alone touch. An iguana lovingly wraps itself around her head. She builds by hand a doggie wheelchair for a pup with paralyzed hind quarters. One day she adopts a sweet shelter dog called Luna who, along with Kenny's Sarge, completes their crazy quartet.
Never in my life have I met a girl like Vannie. She is an inveterate reader. I remember the day she texts me a picture of the book she loves most - a well worn, dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre. I gasp. Jane Eyre is my all time favorite book. I am not acquainted with one other person who loves it like I do. In that moment, I know she will marry my son.
"Because of Jane Eyre?" my husband snorts. Laugh all you want, I think knowingly. She's the one.
And she is. Last Friday, on a warm day in June, Kenny and Vannie tie the knot under a cloudless blue sky in Colorado's Denver City Park. The place is full of poignant memories for my siblings and me. We grew up in this park paddle boating on the big lake with our Starbuck cousins on the Fourth of July. Dad hurled my brothers and me in our saucer sleds down the big hill in front of the Museum of Natural History. City Park was home to us 45 years ago, and I wish with all my heart that Mom and Dad were here for this great day.
But John's 92-year-old mother is still with us, and surrounded by her children and grandchildren before the ceremony, Ruth Howard chokes back tears. I do not become emotional until I see my own siblings marching up the rise toward us like a small army. My sister-in-law Sheryl leads the charge. Wave after wave of brothers and sisters and spouses and children and our stepmother Kris come all the way from our small town in Nebraska to celebrate with Kenny and Vannie.
It is a wonderful day, pure and simple. Vannie is a vision in her dress. She wears no veil. Her hair hangs loosely around her radiant face, and peeping below her dress,as she marches down the aisle, are blue denim shoes. I smile. My beautiful daughter-in-law is uniquely and proudly herself.
Later, we crowd into the boat pavillion for eating and dancing. Vannie's gorgeous mother Ronda and her talented friends have transformed the ancient boathouse. With warm Texan hospitality, Ronda charms our huge family and guests while her affable husband Rob takes care of things behind the scenes. Vannie's handsome father Bobby offers a loving toast to the bride and groom. Our younger son Tommy, as his brother's best man, offers his own toast. He recalls the day long ago that he snatches the last Little Debbie from our cupboard and flaunts it in front of Kenny who immediately smashes it so that neither one of them will enjoy it.
"When you crushed that Zebra cake, Kenny," Tommy laments, "you crushed a little part of me."
My evil sister-in-law Mary Turner nudges me. "So you're the kind of mother who let her kids eat Little Debbies?" she mocks me. She loves it that I have no homemaking skills
"I couldn't bake that day," I pretend to be indignant. "I was behind with my scrapbooking." We laugh raucously.
Vannie's sister Ashley, the maid of honor, offers a toast with sisterly words of love and tenderly kisses Vannie. Then we dance. Vannie's mother has secretly arranged a flash mob dance inviting all of us to participate. She leads the crowd assisted by Vannie's father and beautiful stepmother Sherri. I am not a dancer, though, and think I will bow out. My sisters, however, will not allow me to retreat.
"Loosen up!" my younger sister Mary scolds.
She is absolutely right. How many times does your oldest son get married? We dance and laugh and sing. Kenny hikes his pants up to his chest and struts his moves like Pee Wee Herman. Even on his wedding day, my 6 ft. 10 son cannot find a suit with sleeves long enough to reach his wrists. My sister Terri, beaming like a teenager, bounces out on the floor to match Kenny's outlandish dance moves, and I think I have never laughed so hard.
Suddenly the DJ is playing We Are Family. We sing along in thundering unison. It is absolutely the cheesiest moment ever, but it occurs to me that in this hot little pavillion, I am surrounded by almost all the people in the world I love most. My dad's cousins, Peggy and MaryLee, whose voices I have known all my life, are here with their families. Past and present generations of Browns, Howards, Hansons,Turners, Tighes and Ryans mingle together. A new generation will begin with this eventful night. It is a moment divine. Perhaps the highlight of the evening, however, is Vannie's delightful grandfather,"PaPa", who strums his beloved guitar and sings for the newlyweds.
"I only like two kinds of music," PaPa's eyes twinkle. "Country and western!"
Finally, I slip outside for a breath of cool air. Ashley, Vannie's sister, is also there, snatching a moment of quiet.
"I was so nervous about my toast," she confides all at once. "There was so much I wanted to say."
She tells me about "Sibling Night", a weekly event which she and Vannie and their younger brother Ben hold dear. They cook and talk and spend time together.
"Then Vannie brought Kenny, and when Tommy moved to Denver, he came, too," Ashley explains breathlessly. "And now Kenny and Tommy have become like my own brothers. And that," she finishes at a gallop, "is what I really wanted to say in my toast."
Suddenly, I like this lovely, regal girl very much. Wordless, I grip her arm. Ashley cannot realize how happy she has made me. Kenny and Tommy are on their own living 400 miles away from us. In a flash, however, I know if anything should happen to my sweet boys, they will be among family. I try to thank Ashley but realize I will only sound like an over-emotional mother. One day I will try to tell her what a great gift her words were to me on the day of my son's wedding.
On June 17th, 2016, Kenny and Vannie's wedding night, the moon is full. I take a moment to stand by myself and savor the cool night air and the City Park lake shining in the moonlight. Mom and Dad feel very near. I hope they know about Kenny and Vannie - about their tender hearts and their quirky humor. I hope they know that a beautiful girl has captured their grandson's heart - a girl who loves helpless animals, blue denim shoes, and Jane Eyre.
And a sweet, lovely, very tall boy whose sleeves are never long enough - not even on his wedding day.
Two years ago, Kenny brings home Savanna. "Vannie", he calls her. She has purple hair, majors in English, is a sometime vegetarian, and waits tables to put herself through school. My big, gruff husband doesn't scare her in the least.
"You're a vegetarian?" John says in mock horror. "I killed a buffalo for you!"
She cocks an eyebrow. "I didn't say I was a good vegetarian."
I like this girl. I like her a lot. Kenny does, too. In fact, it's as plain as the nose on his face that he adores her. Laughing, they tell us how they meet each for the first time through an online dating site. Kenny has posted a ridiculous photo of himself. He has decided, he explains, to be completely honest. Vannie, when she sees the photo, makes a quick decision.
 |
| Kenny's online dating photo |
She's the perfect girl for him, too. Vannie falls in love not only with Kenny but with his big dog Sarge. Vannie, in fact, is passionate about all animals. She interns for a pet shelter and bonds with mysterious breeds of animals that I am afraid to look at let alone touch. An iguana lovingly wraps itself around her head. She builds by hand a doggie wheelchair for a pup with paralyzed hind quarters. One day she adopts a sweet shelter dog called Luna who, along with Kenny's Sarge, completes their crazy quartet.
Never in my life have I met a girl like Vannie. She is an inveterate reader. I remember the day she texts me a picture of the book she loves most - a well worn, dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre. I gasp. Jane Eyre is my all time favorite book. I am not acquainted with one other person who loves it like I do. In that moment, I know she will marry my son.
"Because of Jane Eyre?" my husband snorts. Laugh all you want, I think knowingly. She's the one.
 |
| Vannie and Iguana friend |
But John's 92-year-old mother is still with us, and surrounded by her children and grandchildren before the ceremony, Ruth Howard chokes back tears. I do not become emotional until I see my own siblings marching up the rise toward us like a small army. My sister-in-law Sheryl leads the charge. Wave after wave of brothers and sisters and spouses and children and our stepmother Kris come all the way from our small town in Nebraska to celebrate with Kenny and Vannie.
It is a wonderful day, pure and simple. Vannie is a vision in her dress. She wears no veil. Her hair hangs loosely around her radiant face, and peeping below her dress,as she marches down the aisle, are blue denim shoes. I smile. My beautiful daughter-in-law is uniquely and proudly herself.
Later, we crowd into the boat pavillion for eating and dancing. Vannie's gorgeous mother Ronda and her talented friends have transformed the ancient boathouse. With warm Texan hospitality, Ronda charms our huge family and guests while her affable husband Rob takes care of things behind the scenes. Vannie's handsome father Bobby offers a loving toast to the bride and groom. Our younger son Tommy, as his brother's best man, offers his own toast. He recalls the day long ago that he snatches the last Little Debbie from our cupboard and flaunts it in front of Kenny who immediately smashes it so that neither one of them will enjoy it.
"When you crushed that Zebra cake, Kenny," Tommy laments, "you crushed a little part of me."
My evil sister-in-law Mary Turner nudges me. "So you're the kind of mother who let her kids eat Little Debbies?" she mocks me. She loves it that I have no homemaking skills
"I couldn't bake that day," I pretend to be indignant. "I was behind with my scrapbooking." We laugh raucously.
Vannie's sister Ashley, the maid of honor, offers a toast with sisterly words of love and tenderly kisses Vannie. Then we dance. Vannie's mother has secretly arranged a flash mob dance inviting all of us to participate. She leads the crowd assisted by Vannie's father and beautiful stepmother Sherri. I am not a dancer, though, and think I will bow out. My sisters, however, will not allow me to retreat.
"Loosen up!" my younger sister Mary scolds.
She is absolutely right. How many times does your oldest son get married? We dance and laugh and sing. Kenny hikes his pants up to his chest and struts his moves like Pee Wee Herman. Even on his wedding day, my 6 ft. 10 son cannot find a suit with sleeves long enough to reach his wrists. My sister Terri, beaming like a teenager, bounces out on the floor to match Kenny's outlandish dance moves, and I think I have never laughed so hard.
Suddenly the DJ is playing We Are Family. We sing along in thundering unison. It is absolutely the cheesiest moment ever, but it occurs to me that in this hot little pavillion, I am surrounded by almost all the people in the world I love most. My dad's cousins, Peggy and MaryLee, whose voices I have known all my life, are here with their families. Past and present generations of Browns, Howards, Hansons,Turners, Tighes and Ryans mingle together. A new generation will begin with this eventful night. It is a moment divine. Perhaps the highlight of the evening, however, is Vannie's delightful grandfather,"PaPa", who strums his beloved guitar and sings for the newlyweds.
"I only like two kinds of music," PaPa's eyes twinkle. "Country and western!"
Finally, I slip outside for a breath of cool air. Ashley, Vannie's sister, is also there, snatching a moment of quiet.
"I was so nervous about my toast," she confides all at once. "There was so much I wanted to say."
She tells me about "Sibling Night", a weekly event which she and Vannie and their younger brother Ben hold dear. They cook and talk and spend time together.
"Then Vannie brought Kenny, and when Tommy moved to Denver, he came, too," Ashley explains breathlessly. "And now Kenny and Tommy have become like my own brothers. And that," she finishes at a gallop, "is what I really wanted to say in my toast."
 |
| Vannie and Kenny - June 17th, 2016 |
On June 17th, 2016, Kenny and Vannie's wedding night, the moon is full. I take a moment to stand by myself and savor the cool night air and the City Park lake shining in the moonlight. Mom and Dad feel very near. I hope they know about Kenny and Vannie - about their tender hearts and their quirky humor. I hope they know that a beautiful girl has captured their grandson's heart - a girl who loves helpless animals, blue denim shoes, and Jane Eyre.
And a sweet, lovely, very tall boy whose sleeves are never long enough - not even on his wedding day.
