Being Here

This weekend, friends got married. We went through our 20s and 30s without the customary attending and being in weddings, so it has been lovely to go to two this summer (now gone).

It was a beautiful day, and I wish the newlyweds the very best. The advice given to me by my grandfather upon the occasion of my own wedding was very wise, and it is worthwhile for all who commit to spending their lives together.

At the time, my grandfather was in his mid-80s and on his third marriage. To his credit, he must have figured something out, because it lasted more than 50 years and only ended when he died at 99.

In the hallway of the then Treasure Island in Las Vegas, he sagely offered that, “Marriage is not a sex romp.” A relationship requires so much more, and the ups and downs of life can relegate frolicking to a lesser level of priority.

That’s not what this is about, though.

There was a moment at the evening do (this is not a thing that we say where I come from, so I feel awkward using it, but try to keep HMHO happy) when I felt a profound sense of gratitude at simply being here. Not there, and not here in the sense of the UK. Just here.

Late into the evening, our 4-year old firekraken had run out of steam and fallen asleep in the midst of the party. As I was holding him, watching Emma and the kids dancing with so many of our friends, in the company of those with whom we have established an informal and non-legally-binding family arrangement, I was overwhelmed by feelings of love, wholeness, and belonging.

I took a deep breath and held it.

None of us are here forever. A growing number of people who I have known are no longer with us in the way we understand things, and there have been days when I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here. In Don’t Change Your Plans, Ben Folds sings, “Sometimes I get the feeling/That I won’t be on this planet/For very long/I really like it here/I’m quite attached to it/I hope I’m wrong.”

I am so grateful to be here, and I will try to remind myself of that when the riches of my life — my family, my friends, my band —aren’t bursting forth in full bloom all at once.

I will take a deep breath and hold it.