A good friend of mine (who also happens to be my wife's best friend) got married a few days ago. Gladys and Alicia did an incredible amount of work to get the church set perfectly for Alicia's wedding. I got in on the typical duties of a man, carrying and lifting heavy things. There was enough to do to keep me distracted, until it was time to get ready to leave for the church.
A lot of memories of Gumpy came flooding back to me while I was getting my clothes ready. He use to harass Ema for a Turkish towel if they were going to a wedding so he could mop up his tears. He would tell her he was crying because another poor man was loosing his freedom. While it was a funny joke, it was also a little ironic because he never stopped being in love with my grandmother.
I remembered how proud I was at my first wedding because he was my best man. Just two years before, he had undergone a quadruple bypass, so his stamina did not allow him to be as active as he wanted to be. But it was great to have my best friend standing next to me, smiling because he was genuinely happy for me. Gumpy and Ema left our reception soon after he gave his toast because he was exhausted, yet it meant the world to me that he was there.
I know my mom and my aunt have great pictures of him at their weddings with that same smile. The one that acknowledged he was happy for us. There was no mourning in that smile, or sadness for that matter. Just pure joy that we were happy and love for each of us. I will always miss that smile.
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