I always cry at weddings.

Doesn’t matter how well or how little I know the bride or the groom, I will be the one tearing up and choking down sobs.

It also doesn’t matter if the marriage is doomed from the start – I’ve been to a few of those – or if the bride and groom are grownups starting over. When they look into each other’s eyes and profess their undying love, the water works start.

There were plenty of tissues in my purse when my niece and goddaughter, Lauren, married her wonderful fiancé, Chase. Their wedding was right out of a story book. Lauren wore a beautiful white gown with a long train. Chase was absolutely beaming in a handsome suit and tie as he waited for his bride.

The venue for the wedding was a sweeping vineyard in Virginia. The ceremony took place in the late evening with a gorgeous backdrop of grape vines growing on gently rolling hills. The mountains framed the couple and their wedding party, and the light from the setting sun bathed all of us in a warm, soft light.

When her dad walked her down a gently sloping lawn to where her future husband was waiting, we were all sniffling a bit, even the die-hards who claim they never get mushy at a wedding. All except for the bride and groom. They had eyes and smiles only for each other.

Chase and Lauren were surrounded by family on both sides and friends who’d come from all over to help celebrate the newlyweds. When the couple turned and faced their family and friends as husband and wife, applause echoed in the valley.

As the wedding party took pictures, the rest of us visited. Strangers became friends over glasses of wine, and we were all one big happy group by the time we sat down to a gourmet dinner.

When it was time for the traditional speeches by family and friends, the audience both laughed and cried. After the cake was cut, the wedding formalities were completed.

Then it was time to let loose and party.

The music was loud and lively, and almost everybody was out on the dance floor.

I haven’t danced in many years, mostly because of my arthritic knees, but I got out on the dance floor and shimmied and twisted with the rest of the group.

Didn’t matter I didn’t recognize one song from the DJ’s playlist.

Didn’t matter I looked ridiculous.

I was having fun with my young nieces and nephews, my brothers and sisters and Lauren and Chase’s many friends.

We closed the place down in fine fashion, and we were still laughing on the bus ride back to the hotel. Some wedding guests continued the party after finding a local bar that stayed open for a few more hours.

As I watched them go off to continue to celebrate, all I could do was smile. From those who’d been friends for years to those who’d only met that evening, the connecting feeling was joy. We were all brought together by two people.

In these days and times of uncertainty, both here and around the world, a simple act of professing one’s affection in front of family and friends, promising to love, honor, and cherish, is incredibly optimistic.

And entirely realistic.

Some tears we shed are sad ones, and we’ve all been there. But when there’s an occasion to celebrate, take it.

Get out on the dance floor, even if you’re holding on to a walker or you’ve got some smooth moves. Celebrate every chance you get.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.