OS Attends A Wedding, Sees A Ghost, And Is Inspired By Mrs. Ben Hogan

Well, not technically a ghost, the disembodied spirit of a departed person.But it was the next best thing.

The wedding itself was lovely this weekend. Not over-the-top, but elegant and lovely in the best sense of the words. Fabulous music, dignified church wedding.

Before the proceedings began, OS encountered an Old Acquaintance, who had married within two months of his wedding to the lovely Mrs. OS. He barely recognized the lady. Her marriage of twenty years had unraveled, and a family member was moving her stuff out of the house while she was at the wedding. Twenty years, child-rearing, built a business with the husband, kept the home fires burning as he traveled, on and on and on; and Bubbah-Hubby has traded her in for someone younger, dumber, and blonder. Twenty years earlier, Bubbah-Hubby had traded the previous one in for her. (Trophy Wife is a tough profession.) Old Acquaintance has lost thirty pounds, and she was never an ounce overweight to begin with. She had that look of someone who suddenly ages a decade. It was like seeing a ghost. It was disturbing.

After the wedding, Mrs. OS wanted to go out for dinner, and OS was delighted to oblige. She picked her favorite quiet bistro, and ordered the best steak, done just-so.

Anything she wants, she can have, by golly.

Some of the conversation was about the encounter at the wedding. It took a while for OS to calm down, and for reason to return. But for a while it was all 'How could he? How could she not have seen this outcome? Now what? How could he? What went wrong? How could he? What was he thinking? How could he?'

Mrs. OS was actually more lucid, reminding her husband that (1.) No, he had never even contemplated engaging in this behavior, and (2.) She had every reason to believe that he would never do this, and she wasn't worried. She wanted to make sure her husband felt appreciated. And, he does. He wakes every morning so grateful to have her, amazed that she's tolerated him all these years.

But, still, it was disturbing.

By contrast and coincidence, OS had checked a book out of the library the day before, Ben Hogan: The Man Behind The Mystique.

Actually, in great part it is about the marriage behind Hogan behind the mystique. So much of what he accomplished in public was made possible in private by his extraordinary marriage. He and Valerie met when she was fourteen, and they knew from the outset that they each had found their soulmate. They waited until young adulthood to marry, her family almost adopting him in the meantime. It was a loving, devoted, happy marriage for over sixty-five years. She traveled with him on the tour, long before it was common. He was golf's most single-minded and devoted student, and many many days were spent practicing. She never begrudged him, because she knew it was his only other passion beside her, and he wanted to live up to her faith in him by always doing his best. When the fateful car crash nearly took them both, he shielded her body from the collision of the oncoming passenger bus, an act which saved both their lives. When he nearly died of complications, and needed a particular surgeon, she went to the phone and called in favors from friends. The Army scrambled both the surgeon and the plane for the surgeon overnight. They were fiercely loyal one to the other, devoted to the very end of both their lives. You'll have to read the book to know the happiest of endings to this love story.

Now, that's a marriage! A story left untold until both had passed. But what an impact for good these two had upon their world.

Bubbah-Hubby just don't git it. OS's Old Acquaintance might yet, but at a terrible price.

In the meantime, OS is so grateful to have his own Valerie, and hopes someday he can be just a bit like Ben. She deserves no less.

To My 'Extra Daughter', On Her Wedding Day

Who-cooda-node, suspected, foretold
What a decade would do to transform you.
It makes me feel old, respected, and bold
to speak frankly while marriage is new.

Ten years is a third of your earthly tenure,
It takes nerve to stay single til thirty;
While siblings and friends are all settled in, you're
postponing the time to be flirty.

(talk about forced rhyme!)

The day did arrive, that magical day
When diploma and cheers did reward you.
The goal was achieved, none stood in the way
of the walk down the aisle, 'xept a groom!

(arrgh! that one hurt!)

Ambitious girl, you conquered your world,
With pluck and high spirits you 'showed it'
With heart undemurred, you declared undeterred:
'Mr. Right's out there, I just know it!'

And so, today, I had the great pleasure
To see you sail down center aisle;
A moment in time, forever to treasure:
Your dress, your veil, your smile.

And, he is 'Mr. Right', in spite of my rants
'bout 'Old Whats-Hiz-Name, I seem to forget'.
So ignore my poor grumbles, get on with the dance
Of love, 'cuz you ain't seen nothin' yet.

*******

And, on a more sober note:

I'm so incredibly proud of you, and of Mrs. OS as well. I was dubious of your prospects, and Mrs. OS just hung in with you, taking you from where you were to where she thought you could be--and you're still on that journey. It's been amazing to watch you make fifteen years of progress in ten, get an education, build a business, and not succumb to almost overwhelming social pressure to give up and settle for less.

I have to sound the obligatory cautionary note. It's my job:

Failure is a possibility. That's why love and marriage are risky. I arrived home tonight, and amongst my emails is one from a friend in another corner of the world, detailing the dark and absurd journey through his divorce. Quite a contrast from yesterday's celebrations. Having once participated in the failure of a marriage, I hope you never even come within a mile of that tragedy. But, failure is a possibility. Life is weird and unpredictable.

So, continue to show the pluck, courage, good cheer and kind heart that led you to yesterday. If 'Old Whats-Hiz-Name' does likewise, and I think he will, you're in for some happy times.

Enjoy the honeymoon. See you in two weeks.

OS

Fran and Marlo Show Us How It's Done

Love and music, music and love. Two of life's great sources of joy.

Fran and Marlo Cowan remind us, at age ninety or so, after sixty-two years of marriage.

Things I'm Thankful For Today

Too, too many to list, but before I return to my deadline, a couple of items from this weekend:

A happy, happy, happy marriage. My Bride is just amazing, and I marvel that she tolerates me, much less loves me like she does.

Our son's 18th birthday yesterday--I could go on endlessly about The Boy, but he would object, which is one of the reasons I admire him so.

Our daughter's 25th birthday last week--see above for why I don't go endlessly about her either. She's on the road, celebrating at a friend's wedding.

The two kids are so different in temperament and interests, and each one already has made a huge positive impact on their worlds.

Yesterday, we celebrated with a cheap Chinese lunch, and The Boy and My Bride and I enjoyed Julie & Julia yesterday afternoon. It was delightful, moving, inspiring--and I am very hard to please. Usually, when I go to a movie, I'm bored to tears and sleep through it. I savored every frame of this one.

I do work I love.

Golf.

Four affectionate dogs, and four cats. 'Nuff said there.

And, to leave you with a thought, here is the epitaph the real Julie wrote about the real Julia five years ago. Grab a Kleenex before you click.

Back to work--deadline looms.