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Sean |
As June
bled into July, it seemed I was in a protracted stage play where the actors
each made timely, carefully choreographed entrances.
Late
June, mid-morning, the first actor loped from behind the curtain of my kitchen doorway.
It was the groom–my adopted son Sean, a week ahead of schedule with that
familiar vandalous grin spread across his sharp jaw.
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Jack |
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Chika & Cal |
On
a Saturday some ten days later, through the windshield I saw my son Jack’s
broad shoulders pop through an automatic door at the Indy airport. He’s the
best man, home from Denver with a trimmed beard and fresh haircut. The next
day, their brother, Cal sprung from his mom’s car in my driveway, tall and lean
with a travel-wearing smile. He and his Japanese girlfriend, Chika had come
from Tokyo. She introduced herself to me with a firm handshake. Soon thereafter
the bride, Courtney arrived from Ohio, her signature lion’s mane of blonde hair
framing that happy, childlike face.
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Courtney |
A
year ago right now, my kids were all living here. Since then they’ve each flown
the coop. But for that week this house where my kids grew up was wonderfully
full again.
Josh,
the blonde, longhaired, bearded, barnstorming musician and groomsman entered
the stage early in the week in time for beers and a pool party. His ready
laughter was written deep in the week’s script.
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Josh |
Seeing
Sean and Courtney’s accumulated relationships appearing one at a time in the
form of family and old friends, reminded me of all the people we touch and who
touch us as we move through life. There were cookouts, bar meet-ups and late
night conversations around the kitchen table.
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Schweke |
Some
of those who played serious rolls or mere cameos first arrived at my house
years ago on bicycles or skateboards in their early teens. Now they’re college
grads spread across the country and around the world.
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Jake |
I
don’t really recall when Schweke showed up, but he’s hard to miss with a face
that never ages and a 1,000-watt smile. When I headed up the stairs to bed
Wednesday night, I think he was the one who asked me to leave the front door
unlocked. “Jake’s gonna arrive in the middle of the night from Nashville.” When
I came down in the morning, Jake was asleep on the couch, an arm thrown across
his face. He opened one eye and waved.
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Michael |
Later
that day as I sat alone drinking a beer at a picnic table at Bonge’s in
Perkinsville, waiting for the bachelor party to float down White River from
Anderson, a fresh-faced young man wandered down the road toting a heavy
backpack. He looked lost. I noted, then ignored him, then dashed down to the
river to pull sun burnt and drunken groomsmen from their canoes & kayaks.
The young man with the backpack was still waiting along the road when we
returned to the restaurant. Turned out it was one of Sean’s college buddies,
Michael, linking up with the group.
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Dan |
And
Courtney’s brother Dan, too, found a place on my living room floor. A gentle
soul with and a kind, sober-face, Dan would pass the time throwing Frisbee out
front on Cherry Street.
The
accumulated scenes played out at bars and restaurants, on patios and pools,
and even on the river during that week were a testament to the rich
relationships Sean and Courtney have created in their young lives. During the
rehearsal dinner I looked about and noted common threads among those faces.
None are shallow or foolish, no hot messes, no macho jerks, no lost souls. Not
a one you wish would hurry up and go home. All are well-grounded young people
composing the next act in their lives – taking new jobs, marrying, moving to
new places.
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The groomsmen at Bonge's: drunken & sunburnt |
Birds
of a feather.
There
was a lot of beer, and some fun-loving craziness here and there, but more often
there were thoughtful conversations about life, faith, love, and the
possibilities that lay ahead. We are just past the clustered years of
graduations with this group, and entering the years of weddings. When your kids
are little people tell you to savor the moments, because they’ll grow up before
you know it. Fear not. I enjoy the company of my children and their friends
more now than ever.
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Courtney & Sean at the wedding |
And
appreciating those faces, loving having them drinking beer on my patio or
crashing on my couch reminds me that Sean and Courtney’s real journey didn’t
start the way we often think of it – on the wedding day. Instead, they were
already deep into the journey by that time, and the people who took the stage here
were the proof – the ones they’d already gathered up along the road; the
sympathetic souls that make up a circle of friends.
The
wedding was held far from plastic-covered subdivisions and asphalt-ringed stip
malls. It was in a grassy patch beneath tall ancient trees, ringed on all sides
by cornfields – a place that still looks like Indiana. It went off without a
hitch with each player reading his lines to perfection.
And
as quickly as they came, they stepped off stage, scattering across the world, back to their
personal journeys: gone in the morning, or dropped at the
airport, or pulled
away from the curb.
Buy Kurt's book: Noblesville
Visit Kurt's web page
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