October 4, 2018

White Dog said, "Thirty eight human years is only like seven years for dogs. You and dad are pretty much newlyweds by our standards!"

"Thirty-eight human years is a pretty impressive record for human marriages," I told her. "You know humans have much more complicated journeys because our lives are challenging in ways you and your siblings would never even consider. It takes a lot of skills and love to stay together thirty-eight years."

"But you and dad DID it," she said. "And every day ALL of our lives are richer and we are stronger for being together." She settled into my lap and called the Army to gather round. "Tell us the story of your wedding day," she begged. "Some of us have never heard it and I always enjoy the retelling."

I began.

It was 1980. Your dad and I had a very special place in Michigan that was wooded and magic. This is where we gathered together friends and family. Deep in the woods of a Boy Scout Camp in Whitehall, surrounded by brilliant Autumn leaves stood an open air chapel transformed that freezing cold morning by banners handmade by our friends and lovely potted flowers. this is where we gathered.

"Tell us about the minister," WD goaded.

He was a nice fellow from town who thought dad and I were crazy to be outdoors but agreed. He arrived and performed the ceremony wearing a bright blue snowmobile parka, and hip waders for warmth. Some guests from Chicago, not outdoor types dressed in party wear for a traditional wedding; and were soon wrapped in blankets huddling together on the little wooden benches. The trees sparkled with dew in the early morning light as the sun climbed.

A very special friend, wearing gloves until the last second to keep his hands warm, performed music he had written as well as "Closer To Believing" (Emerson, Lake and Palmer) dad's and my soul song.

"Oh momma," Zso cried, "I would have been running in the frost and howling."

Several friends prepared readings from all across literature or shared their personal thoughts. It made the ceremony unique and filled with love. It was so beautiful and perfect a gathering, a setting, a place to make a lifelong commitment. I believe that magic combination blessed us and made our bond impervious to being broken.

"Telling me there was food," Tizenegy drooled. "It is the one thing this story is missing."

After the ceremony we all went to the little lakeside resort where the "grownup" older family spent the night (us "youngsters" slept in boy scout cabins with fireplaces and a central bathroom).

White Dog laughed. "You forgot the part where in the middle of the night you met four different friends wandering that cabin area looking for the bathrooms. In all kinds of night outfits."

We went for lovely brunch after, with beautiful live cello music, a cake topped with doves nestled in candy flowers and much laughter and love. As the afternoon drew long, our friends regathered at our cabin, musical instruments appeared and the party continued late into the night.

And now 38years later, when dad gets home we will we celebrate with you, the White Dog Army. Of course there will be cake. And we will play the tape of the music that James made and look at photos. And yes, Bailey, you can sing to us and demand a million kisses and hugs.