The sets of mini series of related stories, thoughts, and ponderings seem to be popular with my readers on this site. They are fun to write, too!
However, I am going to take a short break from that form of presentation. While I have been busy with “ranch stuff” scattered out over three states, on the road, and pounding the keys to produce blogs and move the books along, much has transpired in my personal life.
On July 25th, with gray storm clouds rolling in over the Centennial Mountains, lightning playing amongst the peaks, and a dry wind rippling the waters of the Ruby, I proudly walked my daughter down the aisle. The “aisle” in this down-home Montana ranch wedding was the freshly mown path in the hayfield between rows of chairs being enjoyed by extended family and her countless friends. I, the groom, and the wedding party were uniformed in black work Carharts, and white shirts with bolos or red string ties.
Father and daughter were preceded by Jace, my grandson, being pulled in a little red wagon. From the vantage of his “gift box” wedged securely between the wagon walls he waved with both hands like a politician, obviously delighted with the attention and excitement. He stole the show. I am not sure any eyeballs clicked in the direction of bride and grandpa until we actually reached the dandy redwood arch the groomsmen had constructed on the banks of the river. This may be one of the few times I have reveled in being upstaged.
The ceremony was short and terrific. The bride and groom kissed long and arduously following the vows. I could have sworn I saw the new hubby’s paws drift down over the clinging white of the new bride’s beautiful wedding dress and derriere. What’s a dad to do? I laughed, along with the rest of the “small” crowd of 250 or so folks.
A great evening, replete with a glorious Montana sunset, country dancing under the tents, and a lip smacking great rib barbeque followed.
I was asked by many if I had a lump in my throat as I led Jordan toward that arch and the next phase of her life. I thought before the wedding that would be the case. Reality was simply that I was enormously happy for her, the good man she married, and my grandson who is most definitely grandly loved.