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 20th, 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 20th…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.
