A hint of my writing

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So, I guess they weren’t secretly married this whole time after all!  

I’m Jen. And we are gathered here today for the wedding of M and J.   

I’ve known M and J probably the shortest time of all of you. But for M and me, it was love at first sight. 

Six Love, that is.  I met M’s forehand before I met M’s face. Put with an injured, not very strong male partner, she single-handedly beat my college-tennis-playing husband and me at mixed doubles. 

We couldn’t get a ball past her; she hit winners from the back fence.  

Our marriage hasn’t been the same since.   

Afterwards, despite her protests that she “doesn’t usually play like that,” I told her she had no choice but to join my next team.   

Thanks to her, we beat everyone in Northern California and went to nationals.  

I called her The Ringer. 

In Northern California tennis parlance, “ringer” means a player on a team who is virtually a guaranteed win at that level. M was a textbook example of a Ringer: the day she couldn’t make it to our team tournament, we lost the line she would have played badly. Luckily, we were able to win the other lines and continue on. The days that she came, we won her lines easily--and we needed the wins, because my line lost one of those matches. 

Hence, my eternal gratitude, and hence, The Ringer.   

Because of The Ringer, we got to play in the stadiums at Indian Wells—a huge professional tennis tournament.  I got to play on Serena Williams’ court right before Serena came on, and we all got to watch Rafa—her favorite—play from so close his sweat could have hit us.   

By the way, she’s so devoted to J that she truly isn’t attracted to Rafa.  

More importantly, I got a capital F Platonic Ideal Friend. 

We don’t finish each other’s thoughts, as the saying goes —we think of what the other person didn’t know she was missing.    

From me, it’s usually deep insight such as, eat a donut! 

From her, it’s precociously wise.  

For example: If I’m convinced after a rough night that my husband has simply been masquerading as being in love with me, that his true love is his video game, she points out, ever so gently, that maybe he is just stressed from work, that he needs to blow off steam.  

This may seem obvious now, but at the time, it’s like my head snaps back in place, the fire stops coming out of my ears, and I can be the  supportive, loving, calm  spouse my husband needs.   

Like the type of *PARTNER* M is to J.  

For a long time, this type of priceless observation about marriage has come from an UNMARRIED M.  

Until now.  Where was The Ringer’s ring?  

So, J.   J is a perfect partner. Through all the experiences that M and I shared—and for all the experiences you all have shared with her the past 12 years—he has been there.   

He doesn’t interrupt—but neither is he absent.  

He’s making her a healthy, beautiful gourmet dinner while she’s texting me. If she’s on the couch for that texting, he’s bringing the food over to her and dropping it in her mouth.   

He’s taking a perfectly timed picture of our tennis team jumping in the air, after giving up his Sunday to support her.    

Three years later, he’s her shoulder that she’s taking a nap on in between matches during two full days of tournamenting in Marin County, which at an hour’s drive, is farther from San Francisco than Boulder, Colorado. To M, anyway.  

He’s sneaking off with the bill for M’s milestone birthday party, after letting everyone else play ping pong.    

He’s playing with, chatting with, and setting up virtual reality for my kids.   

And most importantly, he’s there supporting M emotionally in everything she does. He is her rock, her charger, her home. She’s happier, more energetic, calmer, maybe even taller when he’s around.  

Together, these two dream big and make those dreams happen. Augmented reality. Stuff out of science fiction, stuff as incomprehensible as their code.  Beautiful spaces, medical things. Don’t ask me for details, I’m here for the love part.  

M was a teenager, and J a grad student, when these two met. The connection was instant, even with J dressed as a pirate. He found her email that same night, and for weeks, the two engaged in a chaste letter-writing courtship unheard of since the 1700s.  

When M came of age, the day she turned twenty--J brought her to the top of the Empire State Building.   

M’s parents had shared their first kiss there, 31 years prior, at midnight.   

Embracing this history, knowing its import to M, J chose the top of the Empire State Building--at midnight-- to first say to her, “I love you.”   

She said it back.   

They haven’t stopped saying it since.    

With feeling, each time, multiple times a day.   

These two just like to be together. They’re best friends. They wear matching jackets that she designed for his company. They have Cafe J and Café M, where they press each other individual cups of gourmet coffee. They cook together. For his most recent birthday, they did a master class in dumpling making.   They’ve watched every comic book movie. They travel. They’ve gone to at least a dozen concerts.  He serenades her over Guitar Hero. They go to coffee shops. They used to study together, now they work together in their impossible--yet achieved--pursuits. 

It’s been a wonderful, quiet 12 years of perfect companionship.   

So onto that ring. 

J has known a long time that he’s wanted to marry M. He said that he’s known it ever since times got hard for him, and she was still there for him, steadfast.  

J, as you know, has built his livelihood from scratch--and M has been there since the beginning. She was there the day he dropped out of his Ph.D. program, there when he turned down lucrative job offers, there to drive the car he took across the country at the beginning of the dream chase.  

Speaking of dreams:  I’m going to pause to recite M’s favorite poem, etched in her brain since childhood, sitting at the dinner table with her brother:  

     Hold fast to dreams  

     For if dreams die 

     Life is a broken-winged bird 

     That cannot fly.  

     Hold fast to dreams 

     For when dreams go 

     Life is a barren field 

     Frozen with snow 

--Langston Hughes.  

Back to the dream chase. It was not an easy road. 

As J went from Ann Arbor to Los Angeles, to Beaver Island, to New York, to Boulder, chasing his dreams, sleeping on air mattresses, working in a basement accessible to homeless intrusions--M was there for him. 

There was no question in her mind: of course he should hold fast to his dreams. And of course she should hold fast to him.  

On the phone, over instant messenger, over emails--and in person--she was there for him.    

She once flew to eat Thanksgiving turkey with him off of cardboard boxes in an empty apartment.   

And she came from all over the country herself.  From Chicago, from Boston, from Washington, from Dallas, and eventually, from San Francisco, she flew to be with him.   

So she wasn’t just there when it was easy: she was there when it was hard. And even when it was hard, he visited her too. FIVE YEARS they were long distance.   

And then J, dreams held fast, was able to open an office in one of the world’s most expensive cities, because the woman he loved and wanted to be with lived there.   

Through these years, J has never doubted that he wanted to marry M.  He has been waiting for a perfect moment, a free stretch from work that has always seemed just around the corner.  Time to plan the perfect engagement, time to plan the perfect wedding.  Time to focus on each other.   

That perfect moment did not come this year.  But J’s grandfather, with whom he was very close, passed away this January. And it became clear to him that life was not going to wait for a perfect moment. And many people who are important to him are still here.   

So within months, this year, he found the perfect ring for The Ringer.  

And he planned the perfect proposal. On a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, at sunset, he asked her to marry him.  

And she said yes.  

And here we are.   

I have been happily married for 12 years , but I don’t have much advice to give you guys because you are already so good at being together, at being partners in life.   

You speak kindly to each other. 

You think from the perspective of the other person. 

You support the other one’s dreams, hobbies, quirks. 

You grow together.  You allow for independence, but you are also an unbreakable team.   

You make your decisions together.   

You confide in each other.    

You apologize. 

You’re honest.  

You say “I love you.”  

You hug, and you’re not afraid to ask for that hug to be just a minute longer.   

I think you do everything right.   And I’m glad you are here committing to doing everything right for a LIFETIME together. 

[Vows]

M and J, you have made some big promises to each other.   

You guys are going to kill it.  

By the authority vested in me by the State of __, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  

J, you may kiss the bride.