The Natural.

 

The Money Shot. (Thank you Celise!)

 

 

An open letter to our friends and family.

I can't imagine our wedding day being any better. Jim's service, the flowers, food, music, decorations, memorials, ...they were all perfect. But what made it such a great day, the best day of my life to this point (and that's not an exaggeration in the least), was the people. The significance of the day is magnified exponentially for every family member and friend in attendance (whether there in body or spirit.)

I feel so grateful for everyone who came together, collectively traveling tens-of-thousands of miles (from as far away as England), with kids in tow (and all that paraphernalia: car seats, diaper bags, strollers), and bearing gifts to boot. It humbles me.

Not only do I feel a renewed and more powerful sense of commitment toward Penny, I feel it toward everyone in my family, both biological and marital.

When you love someone the last thing you want to do is disappoint them, and for me that has served as motivation. I feel whatever good things I've accomplished over the last 6 years (and throughout my life) is due to the influence of so many good people, but in very large part due to Penny. Everyone who knows her knows their life is better for it. And I think (I hope) I've made her proud. (For all my nuuuuumerous flaws, I must be doing something right. Hell, she married me.)

I feel a similar sense of responsibility toward all the members of my newly (and drastically) extended family. (If our marriage was a novel it might be titled, How To Go From 5 to 105 Family Members in One Second.)

I hope I can make them feel proud to be in my family, as I feel pride in being related to their family.

As I've said before, a million 'thank yous' wouldn't be enough.

Love,

P.R.

Brothers 1970s 1980s 1990s 2000s -

 

"...until the end of my life."

Penny and I had talked about the vows, but in all honesty, we didn't really get a workable draft until the Wednesday before the ceremony. We wrote them in the car while driving to Michigan three days before the wedding, listening to one of our favorite CDs. (The song Jessie sang so amazingly at the beginning of the service is on this album.)

After laboring over what "ideas" about marriage and love we wanted to project, we just started talking about the things we want for each other. The rest came naturally, each of us contributing a line or an idea (then one of us would get emotional and start welling up).

We had discussed writing two different vows, but we realized that everything we want to say and do is contained in these two-dozen or so lines. (Inasmuch as a lifetime’s worth of promises can be summed up so concisely.) We read the same vows, made the same promises, simply changing "father" to "mother."

This is the second greatest promise one can make to another human being. (The first, of course, is the unwritten promises you make to your children when you bring them kicking and screaming - seemingly against their will - into the world.)

In my opinion marriage is no mere "contract." That's a legal term and has little relevance to the promises we made to each other. Our future is inextricably entwined because we choose it to be so.

It is truly awesome.

From the time that will henceforth be referred to as BW (Before Wedding)...a picture from the wedding shower.

While conversing (through email) with a friend who, sadly, could not make it to the wedding, I had joked about how she had missed the greatest wedding of all time...but I had capitalized all the words and referred to the wedding as GWAT, an unpleasant but humorous acronym which I will use forevermore.

(Or until Penny asks me to stop.)

I have to admit I feel guilty about the amount of time, money and effort so many people put into our marriage. I know that ‘blood is thicker than water’ and the pull of obligation that comes with friendship is strong. (Sometimes that’s a great thing and sometimes it’s irritating as hell.)

It’s amazing to me the number of people who came from thousands (or seemingly thousands considering Saturday’s downpour and being trapped in cars for hundreds of miles with family, friends and/or children) to watch Penny and I speak a dozen sentences to each other. And they gave us expensive kitchenware, amazing art and even their own hard-earned money for the "privilege."

As an adult I’ve never had a completely matching set of flatware. It’s always been a mix of hand-me-downs and ex-roommate or ex-tenant leftovers. I’ve had as many as 9 different types of forks in the same drawer. I can’t say it really bothered me much. But I must also say that it’s pretty cool to look into the silverware drawer in our kitchen and see the perfectly lined up (and shiny) rows of spoons and forks (two different kinds of each) nestled so symmetrically.

Is that weird?

One of our favorite places was olive et gourmando on rue St. Paul, in Old Montreal.





It was exactly the kind of place we were hoping to find.

I had a fantastic portabella paninni with olives, hummus and roasted red peppers.

The cappuccinos had foam thick enough to sleep on.

Friday night (our last in Montreal) we ordered take-out; a Cuban paninni and a small cheese plate Penny asked them to put together for us. We ate in our hotel room while watching Memoirs of a Geisha.

Courtesy of Mark - the Rajczyk/Gurvis/Goldman family...with its newest members Penny and Ben.

Dinner aboard the Bateau Mouche

 

 

 

 

 

La Palais de Congress 

 

It’s too tempting to write every impression, every recollection from the last 10 days.

I’ll resist…for now.

We’re going to get to see the “official” pictures tomorrow. (Many thanks again to Eddie.)

Until then…some images from Montreal...

Here's the first picture I took at my own wedding (using my trusty little digital)

Doesn't she look amazing?




















And here's the last picture I took on my wedding night.


















After the last beer had been emptied and the last s'more had been devoured, after the last car had left and the flames in the the bonfire had dwindled to embers, all that remained was a bale of hay (and somewhere off in the pasture, some very confused cows).