the wedding
The bride was 18 and a junior in high school. The groom was 36, a college grad and a soccer coach. She looked like a child bride, he like a balding father figure. He was standing, obviously nervous, in the bride's living room, waiting for her to come down the stairs. He seemed aware of the disapproval that hung next to the festive wedding decorations, and blended with the sounds of the father of the bride's ventilator. I caught his eye and smiled at him. He seemed like he needed one person that might give him the impression that we all didn't hate him. After all, who are we to judge? Well actually I had been judging ever since I heard about this wedding three weeks ago. He smiled back and seemed so happy to find a friendly face in the crowd of his parents, her disapproving (some drunk)siblings and a collection of friends who were just not surprised since this family just seemed to be destined for drama in many forms not even imaginable to most of us. In reality though, all ...