Monday, October 22, 2007

Corey Couch Sethi


Corey and Justin married this past weekend. I sit here, tears coming down my face this Monday morning. Susie is taking Racheo back into town after we capped off the weekend with an Indian ceremony at Justin's mother's house in Fairfax.

And it's all hitting home right now. I'm remembering so many sweet moments of unutterable beauty about my girls, Susie, Corey, and Rachel growing and loving here in Wolftown, but I weep inside an enveloping sadness about times gone by. Perhaps its elusiveness is beauty itself. We can grasp just a piece of it as it flies by and experience not so much its essence but its passing; that it is forever out of reach but we can, at times, ensnare it inside an amber moment of our own creation.

The wedding itself generated magnificent energy, with about 140 different and wonderful people joining together in a spectacular celebration. We held it outside, the weather crisp, colorful, and smooth as velvet. My aging parents did finally make it and we were all so happy they did. They sat in the front row with us and my bro officiated. He was his usual loving, funny, serene voice of authority delivering beautiful words that fit the occasion perfectly. The breeze blew across the couple, lifting Corey's veil over her right shoulder; Rachel tucked it into her dress. The Blue Ridge behind them glistened in the slanting rays of the late afternoon sun, their colors hightened by rain the day before (during our golf match with Sunny, me, and the rest Justin's friends and groomsmen, 13 total). It couldn't have been more beautiful.

My main job was to welcome everyone, as I did happily but with the usual nervous anticipation. I wanted to get it just right. I wanted to do my very best for Corey's sake. As it happened, it was a transitional moment for me, and I felt it to the very core of my being. I had thought about it a great deal, thinking of some phrases but it was only in a mid-conscious dream a few weeks before that the phrase came to me, "a moment when all things that have ever been come together with all things that will ever be" which then launched the perfect follow-through, "just as Corey and Justin have come together today to become one, to become a singularity." The rest, the lead-in and summation, hung on that concept. And this is what I said:
Welcome, friends and family. Welcome

It's always good to cherish each moment for what it is, its own truth, its own beauty. But some moments carry more meaning and memory than others.

This is one of those moments.

I can remember our little Canarybird, our little tow-headed Coreycouch, traipsing out into the front yard shepherding her imaginary pupils into their imaginary seats inside her imaginary classroom. A big, summery Wolftown sky above and the Blue Ridge in the distance, while Susie and I sat on the front porch watching her and chuckling about how cute she was.

And then, in what seemed to be just one existential moment, she blossomed into this extraordinary young woman with the kind of skill and passion for teaching young children the world sorely needs. Quite literally, Coreycouch was born to teach.

I am so proud of her. Her mother, Susie, is proud of her. Her mother, Jackie, would have been so very proud of her.

But it gets even better.

On the way, she meets Justin and together they fall in love.... Justin, as fine, and honorable, and smart...and funny...a young man as I have ever had the good fortune to meet, to get to know, and finally, to love.

I've also learned over the past couple of days that he needs some work on his golf game, but who am I to talk?

And Corey becomes part of Justin's family, and he becomes part of hers.

So we are here, now, at this moment when all that has ever been comes together with all that will ever be.

Just as Corey and Justin have come together today, in front of all of us, to become one, to become a singularity.

So thank you for being here, and let's celebrate together Corey and Justin's moment, the first they will experience as husband and wife. And what a great joy, and a a deep honor, it is for you to be here with us to witness it.
Now I sit here alone as the memories flow by. Wedding boxes and ribbons sit on the dining room table; the porcelain couple that adorned the cake at our own wedding, a framed invite to Corey's wedding, a photo montage of our Brownsburg marriage. It shows Reverend Tom Biggs gazing at Susie and me holding our flower girl, Coreycouch, who many years later would wear Jackie's pearl necklace at her own wedding. All represent a beginning begetting new beginnings, the cycle of life getting ever more profound with each passing moment.