My oldest daughter got married. It turned out to be a "Camelot" type of affair as it was an idyllic affair which occurred on the beach in Atlantic Beach, Florida.
THE WEDDING
October 25, 2003
Summer Robertson and Taylor Morris
It was one of those things you think about most of your life, the occasion when your offspring gets married. My eldest, Summer, came bouncing exuberantly into the house about six months ago boasting about the beautiful engagement ring she had just received. She and Taylor Morris, her new fiancée, had been going together for a several years. They had endured the excruciating pain of Taylor's continual absence, which was courtesy of the Army. He had been stationed in Germany and they were only able to see each other for a few days at a time during his tour of duty.
Now, Taylor had been discharged from the Army and was in school at the University of North Florida. He was studying elementary education and working with Summer at Ragtime Tavern after school. Of course, Summer's elation always made me happy. She was 24 at the time and would graduate at the top of her class from the university in December. So, she had waited an appropriate length of time before making this big decision. It was easy to tell that she and Taylor were deeply in love and it was an added plus that my wife Kathy and I liked him so much. The date was set for October 25, 2003.
The days and weeks and months went by until the day finally got closer. Summer had been burning the internet up getting ready. Her expertise in computers was paying off as she researched and ordered item after item for the wedding. They found that there was a beautiful building at Kathryn Abbie Hanna State Park, which was available to rent. Since our family did not care for pomp and circumstance, and Taylor and Summer had been raised beach children, it was decided that it would be a beach ceremony. We rented the Dolphin Pavilion at Hanna Park.
Another interesting aspect and a sign of the times, was that each of them had two families due to divorce. That tended to make the wedding party rather large. Include the immense popularity of both Summer and Taylor among their friends and friends of both families and it would be a gala affair. I was elated. The less clothing I had to wear the better and I'd never liked formal wear. We also didn't like to spend outlandish amounts of money, especially since I didn't have much anyway, so it was perfect. It would be a beach/islander theme, which I thought was perfect.
I didn't do much but write checks, but the rest of the family certainly did. As the wonderful day drew near, I was able to see Summer's brilliance in the plans she had made. I was able to get a couple friends from work, Tom Altee and Russ Langly, to act as masters of ceremony and play the music. Russ had very sophisticated audio gear and the giant speakers would work perfectly. Summer recorded about 10 CDs with wonderful selections of music that crossed several generations.
Summer and Taylor ordered Guayabera shirts, which were Cuban in origin, for all of the men in the ceremony. She ordered leis from Hawaii. The men's were made from tealeaves and the ladies' from orchids. Summer found a site on line where she could order little circular disks, which contained photos of her and Taylor. These were scattered as decorations on all of the tables in the Dolphin Pavilion. The maids of honor wore long, pastel colored gowns. Summer had made them all hairpieces using starfish, shells and other seashore artifacts. The ladies were all very beautiful.
There were several bridal showers and a bachelorette party at Summer's younger sister Sunny's apartment. I mistakenly went to Sunny's apartment as I thought I was supposed to attend. I must say there was a rather shocking array of graphic male genitalia images on display, none the least was a piñata penis hanging from the ceiling. Kathy finally pointed out to me that it was a 'girl only' affair and even though there was another male present, the one in the brief, red Speedos was a male dancer. It didn't take me above a second to exit. There was another bachelorette party in Orlando, which was attended by Kathy, Sunny, Summer's mother, and a bunch of Summer's friends (you should see the photos of that!). Among other things, a limousine, champagne and a male stripper were involved.
I don't think I have ever seen so many presents. There were truckloads. I didn't know where they were going to put everything. I was very excited about the wedding for more than the fact my daughter was getting married. My brother and sister-in-law, accompanied by his daughter, Pam, husband David, and two children, Alex and Ben, would be coming. I don't get to see them much and it had been years since I had seen Pam and David. My Stepmother, Marcia, and her husband, Dean, would be there and all of Kathy's family would come. Add some of the most special friends I have in the world and it was going to be a huge event for me.
One of my oldest friends in town was former city councilman and legislator Eric Smith. He was presently the dean at Florida Atlantic School of law. Summer asked me if I thought Eric would preside and perform the ceremony for us. She and Sunny had always called him, "Uncle Eric." I emailed Eric and he was delighted. I took the day off from work Friday, which was the day before the event. That evening, we were to have our rehearsal and a small dinner at Jimmy and Dori Rogers' home. Dori was my ex-wife and Summer's mother.
Eric was at the rehearsal dinner and he was in rare form. Before long, he had everyone in stitches, except for maybe two of the older ladies who surely were thinking, "Is this buffoon really going to perform the solemn service tomorrow?" He ended the practice ceremony with, "You may kiss the bride and I get to kiss all the bridesmaids." He pulled a tiny harmonica out of his pocket and began to play the wedding march and cracked one joke after another. The crowning touch was after the practice was over and we were sitting on the deck. He had brought his little ukelele and started playing oldies while he sang along with them. Soon he had a bunch of the others singing along with him. Then he started improvising on the Julio and Willie song, "To All the Girls I Have Loved Before." He sang, "Here's to all Steve Robertson's wives I have loved before. . . ." It cracked everybody up, but of course it went over like a lead balloon with me. He would be absolutely astute and perfect during the ceremony the next day.
The weekend of the wedding happened to also fall on the same date that the Air and Sea Spectacular was staged at the beaches. It featured the Navy, especially the Blue Angels, and a huge selection of aircraft and amphibious landing craft. It was truly, spectacular and turned out to be a really neat diversion during the day for the guests who had come to town. I watched with my brother's family. Witnessing the show sure made me proud to be an American.
As it was always my habit to be early, I dressed and drove out to the park around 3:30 Saturday afternoon. I knew that Russ would probably be there setting up the stereo equipment and I wanted to make sure there were no problems. When I entered the Dolphin Pavilion, I realized this was the perfect venue for the event. The high, vaulted ceiling was made of yellow pine tongue and groove planks. There were windows all around and the view of the beach was stunning. The beautiful white sand dunes were topped with sea oats that were waving in the breeze. The Atlantic ocean was a wonderful color that was a blend of emerald and blue and wispy clouds drifted overhead. The temperature was perfect and not too warm or cool. Boats with passengers that had been watching the air show were returning to the river and cruised past in the distance.
The tables had already been decorated. Summer, once again, had shown her astonishing creativity. In addition to the circles with the photographs, there were seashells, starfish, bamboo candleholders, some beach sand, and tiny little bottles for each guest, which were filled with beach sand, and a few little shells. The caterers began bringing in boxes and boxes of food. Summer had gotten Publix to cater the food. A huge wedding cake, decorated with beautiful seashells, sand dollars and starfish, was brought in and set up on a table in the corner. It began tilting and I was afraid the top tier would fall off, but eventually Donna Tibbits got it situated on straight. There were bottles and bottles of wine, two kegs of beer complements of Ragtime and a huge selection of food.
Finally, the families and guests began to arrive. It was wonderful for me because I'm quite gregarious and getting together was idyllic. I kept on getting congratulated and then it dawned on me that I was the father of the bride. Not that I didn't already know the fact, but it really hadn't registered on my mind, that in the scheme of things, the role was one of the top ones and I had a part to play. I really hadn't thought much about my being a participant and, in the back of my mind, felt that I was more of a spectator for the wonderful event of the marriage of my daughter. Then the images of "movie" fathers' of the brides started coursing through my head. Actually, it was an interesting "awakening."
Summer phoned me on my cell phone a couple times and said she was running late but she would arrive shortly. The wedding ceremony was scheduled to begin at five, but it was well past that. Fortunately, music, wine, beer, camaraderie and the idyllic setting caused most to not notice the passing of time. Summer and Taylor's friends began taking chairs and Tiki torches down to the hard sand of the beach by the ocean and setting up for the ceremony. Taylor was banished from the pavilion because he wasn't to see the bride until she came down the 'isle', which was really a sandy trail over the sand dunes. I was having a ball.
When Summer arrived at the Dolphin Pavilion, it was as if a true queen had entered the building. She certainly looked the part. I was mesmerized and filled with love. As a professional educator and an arm chair philosopher, I always felt that children were born with 'original innocence, original decency, original intelligence and original creative abilities.' I felt that if when they grew up they didn't have these traits, it was the big guy's fault, the parent. I also felt that the measure of a good parent was when the offspring turned out better than they had. Summer and Sunny were certainly evidence of that. I felt pretty good about my wife and myself at this particular time. Summer was not only beautiful; she had masterminded the whole affair. I'm sure Taylor had great input as well, and I know her mother did, but I wasn't party to that.
Lots of giggling and moving about, in and out of the dressing room in the back, ensued. The guests were encouraged to proceed to the beach below to prepare for the ceremony. Eric patted me on the back and left for the beach. Soon, the young men who were the escorts and the bride's maids were the only people left with Summer and me in the pavilion. I had decided to not partake of wine or beer until much later. I didn't want to make mistakes or act stupid. For over two hours now, I had kept that vow. Then, just before I was to escort Summer down, she popped out of the dressing area. She was ebullient, radiant and animated; and she was beautiful. Her fabulous gown, sea theme Tierra, and very evident, total exuberance of the moment made the little girl who grew up before my eyes, explode into present time.
Now, you probably can't hurt me enough to make me cry. Even though I hate it, beautiful and touching circumstances; pathos, will nail me every time. I was moments prior to escorting my first born down to the beach and looking at her overwhelmed me with memories and the emotions started to mist up my eyes. "To heck it!" went through my mind and I hurried over to where the wine was being served and had two big, quick glasses to fortify myself. Finally, it was time for me to escort the bride. That's when the dream began. The rest of the afternoon and evening seemed like a dream. It was too beautiful to be real life.
As with the other aspects of the event, Summer orchestrated this also. She told the escorts with the bride's maids to start out and made sure that the different couples were a suitable distance apart as they walked down the sandy trail, over the sand dune, and down to the waiting people on the beach. I was a mute participant in all of this, waiting for my daughter to tell me what to do. It occurred to me once again that we were to be last over the dune and that I was 'father of the bride.' You could say my chest swelled with pride and a huge grin spread my lips. The wine had its affect and I had become quite calm, but I was still in the dream. I don't think I can describe the feelings I was having as I escorted the grown woman, whom had been the newborn twenty-five years before, whom was handed to me by Dr. Sam Christian fresh out of the womb. I had held her close, giving her the first bath in warm water and introducing myself, "I'm your daddy. I love you. I'm your daddy, you're my baby, Summer." It was a dream-like state, and my mind was spinning. The only thing that was touching the ground next to me was Summer's gown, and it was loading up with sandspurs, because the rest of her was floating above the warm sand.
I had worn woven leather loafers and they had filled up with sand. Summer and all of the others of the wedding party were determined to go through the ceremony in bare feet. They had started out in flops, however, and when Summer and I got to the rise just before the apex of the dune, there was a pile of flops in the sand. Summer kicked hers off and I did the same thing with my loafers. When we reached the top of the dune, I had another emotional moment awaiting me. I had the most beautiful daughter holding onto my arm, and just about everybody who was important to me in life looking up at us from the beach below. I fought back the wet eyes and tight throat and swallowed. The deep, soft and warm sand was beneath our feet. The rhythmic flow of the breakers against the shore made a background of 'music' for the ceremony, and the lady with the violin was accentuating the occasion with gentle notes. Eric and the bride's maids and the escorts were waiting at the end of the sandy aisle between the guests. The dream continued.
The grin on my face was both real and ridiculous. Nobody could grin that wide. The young men and women of the wedding party were both handsome and beautiful respectively. Taylor was standing next to Eric. They both had beatific looks on their faces, except Taylor's had that look of a young man who was seeing the love of his life and the woman he had chosen for a mate. Summer and Taylor's eyes were for no one else. I had been coached. Eric said, "Who offers this bride to marriage?"
I replied, "Her mother and I and all of our families." That was to compensate for all of the different families involved in the marriage. I was to physically drift away to the side after that, which I did. Eric was magnificent. Certainly no person has done a better job at presiding over a marriage ceremony. I was struggling with the moisture in my eyes and made myself take some deep breaths. The music of the small waves rolling in on the shore joined Eric's words. A couple of laughing gulls pirouetted overhead calling out in their jolly voices and I was mesmerized. Then Eric pulled a surprise, "A real good friend of mine has written a poem which I think is appropriate for this ceremony." He began reading one of my poems, and boy, was that ever touching.
And then came, "And now I pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride." Everybody began to clap as Summer and Taylor embraced and I became aware of the lump in my throat. The crowd paraded up the side of the dune again and headed for the festivities in the Dolphin Pavilion. The wedding party started lining up for pictures. An hour later, we were finally able to join the revelers for the reception. I became so immersed in the guests and festivities I forgot to eat.
Tom and Russ set up the first dance for Summer and Taylor and they waltzed to "Catch the Wind," by Donavan. It was my cue to cut in when they faded in Percy Faith's, "Theme From a Summer Place," and I enjoyed a wonderful dance with my daughter. I don't jitterbug or fast dance worth a flip, but put on a slow song, and I can cut a rug. That particular song had always been a favorite of mine anyway. She about flipped when I did a deep dip with her. I don't think anyone had ever dipped her before.
I don't know when I had a better time. I was asked to speak, and ever the showman, was happy to oblige. I mentioned that it was more like having one giant family gathering because I felt as close to my friends as I did to family. I had been asked if I was sad over losing a daughter. No, I wasn't because I didn't look at it that way. I never had a son and now I did. After consuming many glasses of wine and having enjoyed friends and family, I found the evening drawing to a close. I would sleep well that night; it had been a day out of Camelot.
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THE WEDDING
