A WEDDING STORY

Yet another wonderful wedding story from San Francisco:

And the dawn brought something else: the support of people all around us. Suddenly we had more than the fellowship of those soggy people in line, but from commuters and passersby too. Cars and buses honked and the people inside them waved at us happily. A teenage girl on a bicycle rode by saying, "This is so great! This is so great!" People started coming by with Styrofoam cups and big cartons of Peet's coffee. Not just gay people, but straight people with children came by with bagels and doughnuts and biscotti. A beautiful little boy walked along the sidewalk with his mother giving out yellow roses. An SUV was parked at one corner dispensing juice and hot drinks. Breakfast and smiles and cheers. These people, who left their warm beds to support us, were genuinely happy. "Congratulations! A wedding breakfast! Good for you!" They beamed like proud family. It was still raining, but it wasn't cold.

I am a proud and reserved person. I constantly protect myself from the danger of condescending sentimentality. I carefully filter out the world's opinions and judgments. But these kindnesses broke my heart. I was frequently in tears.

I guess that's really the thing about these stories. You get to be a certain age and you steel yourself against your need for something wonderful in the world; you even convince yourself you never wanted it at all. (Because you've learned by now the odds against it happening.)

And then something - a news story, a movie, a song, some unexpected moment - cracks you open all over again.

I love how that happens.

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