Alas, The Wedding Weekend Extravaganza is over! Congratulations to Tamara and JJ, and Evan & Stacey. (Smith) Note to JJ: Feel more than free to introduce me more formally to your cousin Brooke. Ahem. [You know nothing at all about her.--ed.] True. And it was only a few dances. But there should be warning labels that come with beauty like that. I hate when that happens. She also stated at the end of the evening that I was "Rock Chalk", which, note well, is a high compliment from a member of a family that is loyal to the University of Kansas. [Kansas?! You've gone mad!--ed.] All I'm saying is, if I ran into her again, I wouldn't mind. Added bonus if the words "church" or "Jesus" don't make her vomit. In any case, the second wedding was like going to a party with friends. The Smith/Meek wedding, by contrast, felt like a family reunion. In the best and purest sense. The Smith patriarch (let the reader understand) said to me, "You're part of the family, you know that?" Funny, that, since I didn't marry anyone! But well taken. "Rabbi Tbone" is just like that. I feel I've been adopted. We shared many other things that I can't talk about here. Just know that,--if you didn't know it before--"swimming the Tiber" seems like the dumbest thing I could ever do, in the face of all this love. I was also honored to spend some time with 'Tbone's eldest, Martyn, and his wife, Zoe. I share in Thom's sadness that we won't see them again probably for eighteen months. Martyn and Zoe help the "least of these" in the UK; Zoe is British; Martyn just sounds like he is! But I promise I'll stay in touch, Martyn, and I won't call you 'Marty'! [You forgot to ask him what he thinks of David Cameron.--ed.] He can't vote for him, anyway. And good for you, Martyn; I couldn't renounce the USA, either. But it was also good to chat up some old friends, and some of the attendees prettier than Martyn. [I'm sure he's hurt and disappointed.--ed.] Sure he is. But congrats to Evan & Stacey (and Tamara & JJ). May each family have 17 children, for the good of the world, and in defiance of certain haughty US presidents.
Today, you’re 35. Or at least you would be, in this place. You probably know this, but we’re OK. Not great, but OK. We know you wouldn’t want us moping around and weeping all the time. We try not to. Actually, I guess part of the problem is that you didn’t know how much we loved you. And that you didn’t know how to love yourself. I hope you have gotten to Love by now. Not a place, but fills everything in every way. I’m not Him, but he probably said, “Dear daughter/sister, you have been terribly hard on yourself. Rest now, and be at peace.” Anyway, teaching is going well, and I tell the kids all about you. They all say you are pretty. I usually can keep the boys from saying something gross for a few seconds. Mom and I are going to the game tonight. And like 6 more times, before I go back to South Carolina. I have seen Nicky twice, but I myself haven’t seen your younger kids. Bob took pictures of the day we said goodbye, and we did a family picture at the Abbey. I literally almost a...
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