Wonderful wedding weekend.

Erin and Peter got married in DC on Saturday.  I cannot put into words how love-filled and wonderful the entire weekend was, so I'm not even going to try.  Instead, here is the text of the toast I gave at the reception.  Sadly, the crowd's enthusiasm is not reflected here, but thankfully neither is my loss of composure...

Erin is nothing if not consistent.  In our many years of sharing a room (good luck, Peter), Erin would write down the various things I would say in my sleep and would share them with me the next morning.  It was only appropriate, then, when I woke up this morning, to get a full report of my unconscious ramblings.  Apparently at some point I very decidedly said, “Europe!”  More fittingly, I later said, “When push comes to shove, I’ll be ready.”  I don’t remember what I was dreaming about, but it very well could have been this speech.  So here goes.

I have had a good deal of time to prepare my maid of honor toast.  That is not a dig at Erin being old, but rather a reference to how she unwittingly let me know 12 years ago, that I would be her maid of honor.  For her theology final on vocations her senior year at Villa, Erin had a choice of researching a religious order that suited her, carrying around a flour sack “flour baby” to simulate motherhood, or planning her wedding.  Erin chose to plan her wedding.  (Side note: when I was a senior, I chose to carry around flour baby because it was the least amount of work…which is not what I understand motherhood to be in real life.)  Erin’s project consisted of making a program for the wedding—picking out the readings, the hymns, the bridesmaids…the husband—and writing a report on the vocation of marriage.  For some inexplicable reason, Erin would not let me see the wedding program she had come up with.  So, like the dutiful younger sister I am, after she had gone to bed one night, I went through her things until I found it.  I was as honored then as an eighth grader as I was when she asked me a year ago, to read that she had chosen me to be her maid of honor in her wedding to His Royal Highness Prince William Phillip Louis Arthur of Windsor.

Remembering her project and thinking it could be a useful prop come June 20^th, I again played the dutiful younger sister the last time I was home.  With the help of my co-conspirator, Jane, I dragged Erin’s boxes of high school paraphernalia from the attic and methodically went through them piece by piece.  We hoped against hope that she had not thrown it away…so we were thrilled when we found this artifact had made the cut.  (Dramatic reveal of The Program.)  We were also astonished to learn that Erin apparently possesses some clairvoyant abilities (although they are not entirely reliable).  For instance, she predicted her wedding would be in Washington DC (correct!), but at the Washington National Cathedral (not quite).  Of her nine bridesmaids, she guessed 3 (Maureen, Patricia, and me).  Of the other 6, only one was even invited.  She also predicted, interestingly enough, she would get married on June 20^th…in 2010.  (You are 5 years behind schedule.)  She also was not quite accurate in terms of who her husband would be.  As we know, that gold digger Kate Middleton beat us all to our shot at a royal wedding.   So what did Erin do in her heartbreak? …..She found the next most eligible bald bachelor, the most excellent Peter Joseph Dwyer of Williamsburg.  Peter, you’re a prince in our hearts and we could not be more thrilled that our royal wedding fell through.  I think the only ones who may feel slight twinges of regret might be your future sons, when they look upon the luscious locks of Prince William and dream of what might have been.

Seriously though, Peter, you are everything I could wish for my sister.  You have blended seamlessly into our family, you are kind, thoughtful, patient, and generous, you have a good sense of humor, you’re tall, handsome but not vain, your family is very nice, you have a well-balanced diet, you don’t do Cross Fit, you’re neither a liberal hippie nor a conservative whack job, you appreciate the value of several beers or a few stronger drinks, but you are not an alcoholic, you exhibit qualities that lead me to believe you will make a fine father, you have never done jail time (have you….), you’re not a member of a cult, you enjoy playing board games, you do not over-share on Facebook and I haven’t had to hide you from my newsfeed, you help with the dishes, and the first day I met you, you, Erin, Will and I tasted a few too many beers in our elementary school gymnasium, and when I accidentally vandalized the youth group room, you did not judge me.

Erin, on behalf of Maureen and Patricia and all our cousins, I want to thank you for paving the way.  You’ve always been the first to reach the major milestones, and you’ve done so with such grace.  We look up to you and I do not know where we would be without you.  No one can take charge like you can, make a reservation like you can, plan a wedding like you can.  Everyone needs an Erin, so we are all the luckiest to have you—Peter is most of all.

I love you both and I’ll always be on your team.

Now Erin, I’d like you to hold out your hand.  Peter, put your hand on top of hers.  Look into each other’s eyes, and cherish this moment, as everyone who loves you bears witness to last time that you, Peter, will ever have the upper hand.

Will you all please raise your glasses—to Erin and Peter, may your love always grow.