Today I had the opportunity to be the Best Man at a wedding. I don’t like to be in front of people for any reason, but that was something I had to get over for this special occasion. The groom was my father. Earlier this year, my father had told me he was dating someone, and I thought that was good. Not too long after that, he asked me what I thought about him getting married again, and I thought that was good too. Now I believe everyone deserves a measure of happiness, and I certainly felt that for my father, but that was not the only reason I approved. I’ll get to that in a moment.
I have known my father’s new bride for many years. Miss Barbara and her husband, Mr. Bobby, had attended church with us for years. I knew her husband better than I knew her and knew he worked with my father-in-law at Low Temp for many years. She was soft-spoken, and we didn’t talk much, but I always found her to be very kind and friendly. Mr. Bobby passed away four years ago.
Not long after my mother passed away, I saw a movie called Collateral Beauty. In the film, a woman was in a waiting area in a hospital, waiting for her daughter to be taken off life support. An elderly woman was sitting next to her and told her, “Just be sure to notice the collateral beauty.” Like the characters in the movie, I was not feeling this “collateral beauty” thing, but it did stick in my head for future reference. That’s not to say I have any doubt about where my mother is today. I know she is in a place so great that it is beyond anything we can imagine, and there is comfort in that, but there is grief that will never be completely gone in this lifetime. As the young lady said in the movie about the collateral beauty, “It’ll never bring her back. And it will never ever make it okay. But I promise you, it’s there.”
I had always heard how grief would sometimes hit you out of the blue, but I had never experienced that until after my mother died. It does have a way of sneaking up on you. Usually, it’s when I’m alone, but there are exceptions. One of the exceptions happened in the wedding rehearsal yesterday. Out of nowhere, it just suddenly hit me, and I was close to losing it. I think I managed to squash it without anyone noticing. I remembered something I had heard my mother say several times – that if she died and my father decided to re-marry, that would be honoring her. She felt that if my father’s view of marriage was so positive that he wanted to do it again, that was because of his experiences in being married to her. I always felt that was a lovely and gracious way of looking at it.
So, my mother was honored today, as was Mr. Bobby. Miss Barbara and my father have not conquered their grief, but they have found love again and shown all of us that collateral beauty. We welcomed new members into our family, and they welcomed us into theirs, which was more collateral beauty. It was a good day.
“To mourn your loss is required if you are to befriend the love you have been granted. To honor your grief is not self-destructive or harmful, it is life-sustaining and life-giving, and it ultimately leads you back to love again. In this way, love is both the cause and the antidote.” – Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph. D.