Our youngest son was thrilled when one of his best friends asked him to be in his wedding. Chris asked me to accompany him to help with the children while he stood for his friend.

The wedding was a Hindu marriage, and I’d never been to a ceremony in a temple before. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Chris said his groomsman’s attire was stunning – a long purple shimmering tunic, a gold scarf and gold pants.

His two daughters had pretty dresses for the wedding, but his two sons did not. So dad and sons went clothes shopping. The three of them returned and rushed in to change so they could model their wedding clothes for us.

At first, I was shocked.

The youngest one was wearing a bright red suit with a matching vest, an orange shirt and a matching striped tie. The older boy was wearing a shimmering blue jacket and vest, a black shirt and a red bow tie.

They were going to a wedding – wouldn’t blue blazers look a lot more, well, appropriate?

That thought immediately vanished when I saw their smiles. Their buttons were practically popping off those brighter-than-the-sun jackets.

“They picked out what they wanted,” Chris said, adjusting their ties, a look of pride, love and happiness on his face. “Don’t they look fantastic!”

Seeing the satisfaction on their faces sealed the deal – the boys did look fantastic and, more than that, confident in the knowledge that they picked out what they wanted and wore their clothes proudly.

I sheepishly admitted that at the ages of 3 and 6, my grandsons understood more about independence and not following the crowd than their grandmother.

 

A Beige Life

A couple of years ago, I looked through my closet and realized most of my shirts were either white or beige. I reasoned that the basic colors went with any skirt or slacks I had in the closet.

I knew life was too short to be that bland, but I just couldn’t bring myself to buy bright bold colors. I didn’t want to stand out, and I rationalized that spending money on an item I might only wear occasionally was frivolous.

Until I saw this one blouse in the clothing store.

I wasn’t looking for clothes, but this shirt caught my eye. It was a seamless blend of swirling aqua blue and emerald green. I stood in front of that shirt a good minute, marveling at how the colors were so vibrant yet so calming.

Then I looked at the price tag and reluctantly walked away.

And every day afterwards, I regretted not buying something that, in my eyes, was beautiful. I thought about that shirt every time I pulled a beige shirt out of the drawer.

Months later, I saw another shirt with those same vibrant colors, and I bought it without looking at the price tag. It’s one of my favorite shirts, and I wear it at least once every other week because those colors make me happy.

But that’s only one shirt in my mostly beige wardrobe.

I need to follow the lead of my grandsons and take more chances.

I need to choose not only what makes me happy but makes me laugh out loud.

I need to stand out, even when I think others might laugh or in a way that’s outside of my small comfort zone.

Because it really doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks.

If those suits makes my grandsons feel good about themselves and announce that here’s two guys who refuse to follow the crowd and, instead, follow what they love, then all the better.

I’d do well to follow their example more often.

Here’s to strutting around in scarlet red suits, to wearing long purple tunics with gold scarves, to dancing with abandon with children and to never again buying a beige shirt.

Because life’s too short to blend into the background.

Life’s all about grabbing the brass ring.

And taking that chance is all the better if when I reach out, I’m wearing something that make me feel as confident as my son and grandsons.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.