The Wedding

 Michael Smith

            My future wife and I saw her parents only on rare occasions. The 900 miles between Montreal

and Halifax prevented us from being together more than twice a year, Although our meetings were few, it was

clear to see I would have no use for mother-in-law jokes. She was a woman of pure gold; I loved her instantly.

My father-in-law was more of a challenge. Behind a gruff exterior he attempted to hide his soft heart. Very few

grew close enough to see his tenderness. I like to think I was one of that small number.

            They had been through a lot in their lives. They immigrated to Canada during the Hungarian

revolution. With two young girls in tow they crossed the heavily guarded border and immigrated to a country they

knew little of. They sought peace and found it in Montreal.

            My mother-in-law had suffered with cancer for many years, and although it was in remission, we all

knew her time was short. During one visit, as we left their hotel room on the night before their departure, I glanced back to see her standing in the hall staring after us. Her look of sorrow brought tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat. I knew what she thought, "Will this be the last time?" It wasn't the dying that scared her, it was the

uncertainty of when.

            I stopped my wife and made her wait as I walked the distance to that small woman and hugged her tight. "Mom," I whispered, "You hang in there. Come back for the wedding. I want you there."

            The day of the wedding was a hectic but joyous one. Georgia and I stood face-to-face as we said our

vows. There was a tremble in my voice as I said mine. My mother-in-law later stated she could tell I meant every

word of what I said. After we were pronounced man and wife I hugged my new bride, took her arm, and walked

her down the aisle and into our future.

            At the reception we sat at the center of the head table as numerous calls we made for us to show signs

of affection. A spoon would repeatedly strike the side of a glass and soon everyone would join in until we rose to

our feet and kissed tenderly in embarrassment.

            The time for speech making arrived, and my best man embarrassed me as expected. When it was my

turn I stood, turned to face my new father-in-law, and raised my glass in the air. "Tibor, " I said, "I thank you. I

thank you for your courage. Many years ago you made a decision to flee your homeland, cross a guarded border,

and made your home in Canada. This lady beside me was born in a far-away country, but yet now sits beside me

as my wife. Only through your strength and courage is this possible."

            With a trembling voice I proclaimed, "Tibor, I thank you. I thank you for your courage and i thank

you for giving me your daughter." The room was quiet and there wasn't a dry eye in the house as I returned to

my seat. It was the only time I ever spoke to him that way. I believe I touched him deeply.

            The afternoon flew by with dancing, hugs, and many words of encouragement. At one point during

the festivities I managed to find my mother-in-law alone. I crouched beside her chair and said, "Mom, you made it.

I'm so glad you are here."

            She hugged me, "Michael, I am very happy. All I ever wanted was to see Georgia settled and today

I got to see it happen. Now I can go in peace."

            "Mom, hang in there." I said. "I want you to see your grandchildren."

            She looked at me doubtfully. "I am happy now. I don't expect I will be here for grandkids."

            All I could do was hold her.

            After the ceremonies ended Georgia and I left for our hotel. I opened the door to our suite, turned

and lifted my new wife in my arms as the door closed softly behind me. I put her down, reopened it, picked her

up again, and  turned in time to watch it close again. The next time I propped the door open with a trash can. As

I lifted her in my arms, the heavy door pushed the trash can aside and closed again. By now a small crowd had

gathered. They stood at their doors and watched in amusement as I failed time-after-time. "Michael, never mind.

Let's just go in." Georgia said when she grew tired of the attention.

            "Hun, it is my duty to carry you across the threshold, and darn it, I am going to do it."

            Leaving her standing alone I entered the room and slid a heavy chair to the entrance. With the chair

bracing the door open, I returned once more, picked her up, and carried her into the room, as those gathered

cheered and clapped. The clamor in the hall dimmed as I shut the door a final time and took my wife into my

arms and into my life.

            My mother-in-law did live to see her grand-daughter. Thirteen months later our daughter was born

and she came to hold her arms as tears spilled down her cheeks. Within the year had passed on and forever lives

on in our hearts and memories.

            My Georgia passed away October 10, 2003. She is with her mom now-two moms together for

eternity.

Mike

Michael Smith
Fort Lee, NJ
Read my Stories at http://heartsandhumor.com/blog/