ing in his life had prepared him for the wash of emotion that filled his being; not the Great Depression that dominated his childhood, not his job at IBM, not World War II. He did not notice the church decorated with white chrysanthemums, the priest dressed in green vestments or Ed Wilcox his best man and best friend standing next to him.He looked out at the church pews and saw the stoic, sober face of his father. When he went to war his father had taken him aside for a private talk. “Be a good boy.” was all he said. Earlier in the morning his father came to him and said cryptically, “God bless you son. Take care of your family.”
His mother sat next to his father. She had a nervous smile on her face. In a private chat with her Joe learned that she was none too pleased with his choice of mate—she was Irish; but then, his mother had opinions about everyone. His nine year old sister was squirming in her seat, dressed in her best clothes and excited about the wedding. His grandmother, a midwife, who guided him into this world twenty one years before whispered words of caution into his sister’s ear. Behind them were more family and friends heads together in hushed excited whispers. Joe was about to marry the most beautiful girl in the world. The love of his life. He was filled with complete joy.
On the other side of the church sat Helen’s family and friends. Her grandmother was there, a small tiny bit of a woman; and Mary Frances, Helen’s fourteen year old sister. If truth be told she was a bit miffed that she was not part of the wedding party. Why couldn’t she be a junior bridesmaid? Father Hopkins checked his watch and nodded his head to Mr. Henry Murray, the organist, to begin the music.
It was the cue Charles Reardon, brother of the bride, had been waiting for.
At the back of the church in the vestibule all was frothy chaos. Dora, the mother of the bride, hovered over it all. She fussed over the bridesmaids, smoothed out wrinkles from the bride’s veil, adjusted hats, and gave last minute instructions to everyone. Joe, the father of the bride, stood in stony silence with a sad smile on his face. His daughter was getting married and he was about to give her to the man she loved.
What a relief to everyone when the music started. Charles grabbed his mother and walked her down the aisle. Ladylike and proud she slid into her seat next to Mary Frances. Her aqua marine hat from the finest store in town flattered her pale beauty. She was the mother of the bride and the expert on etiquette. This was her show and her daughter was the star.
The music continued as each member of the bridal party walked slowly, elegantly down the aisle. The flower girl was Helen’s adorable cousin Anne Guifoyle. She wore a pink taffeta gown and a flower tiara. The sister’s of the groom, Eileen and Eleanor wore matching pink taffeta gowns; Margorie Reardon cousin of the bride, and Helen’s roommate from school, Betty Hand wore matching dresses in pale blue taffeta. All the bridesmaids wore matching hats. Rita Reardon, sister of the bride and maid of honor, wore a pale blue taffeta dress with matching veiled Juliet cap and gloves. They all carried bouquets of white chrysanthemums and pink roses.
A silence descended over the church as the bridesmaids and groomsmen took their places near the alter. The bridal party, the priest, the groom and the congregation turned as one to the back of the church. The organist played the first strands of the Wedding March when a beautiful vision in white lace-trimmed satin and tulle appeared. Her face covered with a veil, her father whispered in her ear. You could see the bright angelic smile that was Helen’s trademark beneath her tiara of seed pearls and tulle. In her hands she clutched a cascade of white chrysanthemums and white roses. Her eyes were trained on Joe Mack the man she was about to marry. The organ music filled the church, the vision on the arm of her handsome father made even the most cynical believe that Fairy Tales do come true.
The wedding was a Nuptial Mass sung in Latin. Helen and Joe vowed before friends, family and God to love each other in sickness and health, for richer or poorer until death parted them and exchanged gold rings. The wedding mass concluded with communion, the first received as husband and wife.
Joe and Helen, excited, breathless, scared and confident skipped down the aisle under the approving smiles of the congregation. It was time to have their wedding breakfast. The bridal party posed for the mandatory photos and then drove over to the Hotel Frederick. A wedding breakfast was tradition with Catholic couples. The church ruled that one must fast overnight before they received Holy Communion. At mid-morning the bridal party was quite hungry.
It was a cloudy Octoberish sort of day. A bit cool, pleasant. Rain had threatened at any moment. Much to the relief of the wedding guests it held off until everyone was inside. Then it poured. A reception for one hundred family and friends was held at the Knights of Columbus Hall that afternoon. Music, dancing and light refreshments entertained the guests as Helen and Joe danced and talked to everyone. A four tiered wedding cake was cut to the joy of the guests. Nothing tastes better than wedding cake.
That evening Helen and Joe stepped into their car for a wedding trip to northern New York State and Canada. Each year on the 12th of October they remembered their vows. They remembered the promise to Love each other, to live by the Faith they were taught and were held together with Hope for the future. For sixty years they were husband and wife, through sorrowful times and joyful times. They raised six children and Joe became a Deacon in the Catholic Church, with his wife and helpmate by his side.
The legacy of this couple is contained in Scripture, 1 Corinthians 13:13 “And so there remain Faith, Hope, Love--these three; and of these the greatest is Love.”
At the back of the church in the vestibule all was frothy chaos. Dora, the mother of the bride, hovered over it all. She fussed over the bridesmaids, smoothed out wrinkles from the bride’s veil, adjusted hats, and gave last minute instructions to everyone. Joe, the father of the bride, stood in stony silence with a sad smile on his face. His daughter was getting married and he was about to give her to the man she loved.
What a relief to everyone when the music started. Charles grabbed his mother and walked her down the aisle. Ladylike and proud she slid into her seat next to Mary Frances. Her aqua marine hat from the finest store in town flattered her pale beauty. She was the mother of the bride and the expert on etiquette. This was her show and her daughter was the star.
The music continued as each member of the bridal party walked slowly, elegantly down the aisle. The flower girl was Helen’s adorable cousin Anne Guifoyle. She wore a pink taffeta gown and a flower tiara. The sister’s of the groom, Eileen and Eleanor wore matching pink taffeta gowns; Margorie Reardon cousin of the bride, and Helen’s roommate from school, Betty Hand wore matching dresses in pale blue taffeta. All the bridesmaids wore matching hats. Rita Reardon, sister of the bride and maid of honor, wore a pale blue taffeta dress with matching veiled Juliet cap and gloves. They all carried bouquets of white chrysanthemums and pink roses.
A silence descended over the church as the bridesmaids and groomsmen took their places near the alter. The bridal party, the priest, the groom and the congregation turned as one to the back of the church. The organist played the first strands of the Wedding March when a beautiful vision in white lace-trimmed satin and tulle appeared. Her face covered with a veil, her father whispered in her ear. You could see the bright angelic smile that was Helen’s trademark beneath her tiara of seed pearls and tulle. In her hands she clutched a cascade of white chrysanthemums and white roses. Her eyes were trained on Joe Mack the man she was about to marry. The organ music filled the church, the vision on the arm of her handsome father made even the most cynical believe that Fairy Tales do come true.The wedding was a Nuptial Mass sung in Latin. Helen and Joe vowed before friends, family and God to love each other in sickness and health, for richer or poorer until death parted them and exchanged gold rings. The wedding mass concluded with communion, the first received as husband and wife.
Joe and Helen, excited, breathless, scared and confident skipped down the aisle under the approving smiles of the congregation. It was time to have their wedding breakfast. The bridal party posed for the mandatory photos and then drove over to the Hotel Frederick. A wedding breakfast was tradition with Catholic couples. The church ruled that one must fast overnight before they received Holy Communion. At mid-morning the bridal party was quite hungry.
It was a cloudy Octoberish sort of day. A bit cool, pleasant. Rain had threatened at any moment. Much to the relief of the wedding guests it held off until everyone was inside. Then it poured. A reception for one hundred family and friends was held at the Knights of Columbus Hall that afternoon. Music, dancing and light refreshments entertained the guests as Helen and Joe danced and talked to everyone. A four tiered wedding cake was cut to the joy of the guests. Nothing tastes better than wedding cake.That evening Helen and Joe stepped into their car for a wedding trip to northern New York State and Canada. Each year on the 12th of October they remembered their vows. They remembered the promise to Love each other, to live by the Faith they were taught and were held together with Hope for the future. For sixty years they were husband and wife, through sorrowful times and joyful times. They raised six children and Joe became a Deacon in the Catholic Church, with his wife and helpmate by his side.
The legacy of this couple is contained in Scripture, 1 Corinthians 13:13 “And so there remain Faith, Hope, Love--these three; and of these the greatest is Love.”
1 comment:
What a beautiful bride she was.
Post a Comment