The Wedding

One day before my elder brother is supposed to get married, he comes up to me and says, "Hey Jen! Want to jump off a bridge?"

"Huh?" I answer, as many people would, I'm sure.

"Come on," he says, "grab a life jacket, we're leaving."

He is being serious, it seems.

The days that led up to Mike's wedding seemed full of moments like that: canoes that went missing on our overnight camping trip, choking on river water as I got sucked into a whirlpool after finally (finally!) jumping off the bridge into the flooded rapids below. Part of it was the ordinary madness that accompanies any wedding. Part of it was the madness that accompanies a wedding involving 100 people in a remote northern fishing location. And part of it is the madness that accompanies my brother and his fiancee - the pair that built a canoe and paddled across the entire country living off dried food they dehydrated themselves and battling with giardia, rapids and the Great White North.

On the day of the wedding, however, the madness seemed to have ended. It was a beautiful day. After my cousins had finished with making me into an almost unrecognizable girl, we headed off to Stanley Mission where the wedding was going to be held.

I got there early as my job involved paddling guests across the water to the old church on an island in big Voyageur canoes. It was a glorious day and my job was a good one. Besides chatting with all the guests, I was out on the water, which was sparkling in the sunlight, looking up towards the white church, and the brilliant blue sky, and the dark green pines along the shore. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was beautiful.

I spent most of the wedding being thankful that I was in the front row, off to the side where no one could see that I was crying. I don't think I have every seen my brother look quite so happy and so radiant. He had eyes for only one person in the church and she couldn't keep her eyes off of his.

My brother is a big guy with a big beard and a big voice, but that day, he sounded like he was about ten years old. I cried the whole time he said his vows and most of the time that she sung hers, in pure joy and celebration of the moment.

The church was just the right size for a hundred people. It is one of the oldest churches in Western Canada, made mostly of wood. As the happy couple exited the church, the brides and grooms (all akilted) raised their canoe paddles into an arch to let them pass. They left the church and went down to the dock where they played a best-of-three rock, paper, sissors to see who got the stern of the canoe (probably the most talked about wedding moment of the summer.) Then they paddled off into the distance.

There was, of course, the inevitable hour or so of photographs, which was passed in the grassy graveyard behind the church. While the bride used her veil to ward off the mosquitos, the boys in kilts were not so lucky. Actually, with the spectacular scenery and the wonderful wedding, even mosquitos could not keep the smiles from our faces.

I got a ride back to land in a motorboat, being relieved of my rowing duties for awhile. As we touched shore, the rain began, just in time for us to get into the car and hit the road.

Dinner was a fabulous affair involving bison, pickrel, wild rice and sweet potatoes. As much as possible, everything had come from local providers. The wine was Canadian and lovely. Every now and again, someone would ring a bell and the couple would kiss.

Someone put me behind the bar, but obviously I didn't stay there long, just long enough to have too much to drink. There was music on and so I had to dance. Almost everyone was on the dancefloor, including the father of the bride and my own parents. My aunt was getting her groove on and there were boys in kilts to dance with and cigars to smoke and people to talk with and entice onto the dancefloor. You can see why I didn't stay behind the bar for very long.

Everything was perfect, as far as I'm concerned, and not having organized it, I am blissfully oblivious to anything that might have gone wrong. The smile on my brother's face and on Ambers, his now wife, was worth every moment of hassle, from the travel agent to the typhoon, just to have been there and seen it and shared the moment with them. The speeches were heart felt, the food divine, the weather gorgeous. I went on a canoe trip, caught a fish, jumped off a bridge and survived to see the wedding, dance the night away, and drive the 13 hours back to Calgary and the 48 hours it took to get back to Bangkok. Never have I been so glad to be with my family and share all the joys and happiness that they bring.

Thanks guys.