I Now Pronounce You....

When we were in the pre-cana process of getting married we were told that marriage was a sacrament that we gave to each other. The priest and our family and friends were all witnesses as we exchanged our vows to one another. It was a beautiful, life-altering moment. And when you took the time out of the craziness that a wedding can be, thinking about that moment is grounding.
The priest, chaplain, minister, presider over the vows "pronounces" you as a couple. For better or worse, richer, poorer, sickness, and health. But the pronouncement was not for us. We had lived the moment. The pronouncement was for others.


Today I was the presider, the official, the witness. Today I made the pronouncement.


I watched a husband die, and a wife greave. I was witness to what might have been their most intimate moment. I heard words whispered that were loving and heartbreaking.
"I love you." "You are the best husband." "What will I do without you."
I pronounced him. After she had hugged and kissed and cried over his body.
After his son had a moment to hold his hand. After he had his moment with God and his wife, and his family.


I was not new to this. Not death. Not loss or sadness. Not the love of family.
I was to be there as the official.
I was trying not to cry, and mourn and breakdown.
I tried not to cross certain boundaries, but show my empathy at the same time.
And I did. For a brief period of time. Before I lost it.
As soon as I signed my papers and finished my "official" business I got in my car and wept.
And I picked up X and wept.
And I drove home and wept.


And I don't have any answers, and I don't have reassurances, but I feel blessed to have witnessed what I have.
And it brought me back to our wedding. And our "official" beginning. In the church.
And our other beginning, on the top of a mountain where we got engaged.
And our real beginning, on 9/11/01 when our lives merged. And how love grows into something so amazing and complex, it is atsounding and awesome and overwhelming.




And my brain reels with these thoughts as I drive to the gym to run, I hear this on the radio:














And that was my day.