Uninvited Guests

A few years ago, when we were on our way to the hospital to visit a sick relative, one of my sons said, “I don’t want to go. I don’t like hospitals. They make me uncomfortable.” My response was simple. “Sometimes we have to do things that make us uncomfortable so that we can make those we love happy.” He seemed to accept that and we went about our visit. Recently my husband came home and excitedly announced “Jerry Joe is getting married! The wedding is Saturday in the U.P. and I want to go!” My responses were the usual wife-type responses to this. I reminded him that we can’t go to a wedding reception that we weren’t invited to. It’s just rude and there’s a name for that, it’s called “wedding-crashing.” But he protested that because it was Jerry Joe’s wedding, that it didn’t matter if we were invited or not. I know that to men, invitations are simply a formality. I think men feel that verbal notification from a friend-of-a-friend is good enough. Tom hadn’t seen Jerry since we moved here 12 years ago and was determined to go. As the day approached I drug my feet and tried desperately to find something else to distract him. When Saturday arrived, not only were we still going, but we were riding the motorcycle. I was just beside myself. Now we were going to a wedding we weren’t invited to, dressed totally inappropriately for a wedding and with helmet-hair. Tom assured me that it would be similar to one we attended about 15 years ago in Barbeau (also in the U.P.) in which those in attendance wore jeans and concert t-shirts. When we arrived, not only were there no concert t-shirts, but the reception was obviously a formal affair. I was livid. I informed Tom that if he wanted to embarrass himself that was fine, but I would be waiting for him in the lobby. Tom proudly walked right through the tastefully dressed guests and up the stage stairs and sat down at the head table right next to Jerry, who at that time was sitting up there by himself talking to someone directly in front of him. I stood in the doorway and watched as after a couple of minutes of not being noticed, Jerry suddenly turned around and saw Tom sitting there with a big grin on his face. Jerry just lit up as the two old friends reunited. We ended up staying for a quite while as Tom caught up with more old friends. He was really happy. On the ride home I was reminded of my statement to my son all of those years ago. Yes, sometimes we do have to do things that make us uncomfortable. I know it sure made Tom happy and that in turn, made me happy too.

Column published June 23, 2012