My daughter, Emily, and her fiancé, Eric Ling, were married July 3, 2010. Here, as best I recall it, is the toast I gave at the reception.
I think it is only natural on occasions such as this for the father of the bride, or FOTB as I like to call myself, to think back over the years on the events of his daughter’s life, especially the circumstances surrounding the daughter’s birth.
But because I am who I am, I can not simply indulge in nostalgia. I’m incapable of mere reminiscence. I have to analyze, dissect, compare and contrast. And, as I do so, I see that there are a number of similarities and differences between the two events of the birth and the wedding.
The first similarity is somewhat coincidental. It just so happens that the period of time between the engagement and the wedding was just about the same as that of a normal pregnancy. It was almost exactly nine months ago that Em and Eric were engaged. It’s just a coincidence.
The activities during those nine months were similar also. Liz and I had to go to classes and read books; Em and Eric had counseling and workshops, and read books. We both had showers, baby showers for us and wedding showers for Em and Eric. And, of course, family and friends gave their love and support, and lots of advice.
One difference between the two events is the cost. At the time, Emily’s birth was completely covered by health insurance. All the doctor’s visits, the delivery, the hospital stay, all covered. The birth was basically free. The wedding . . . not covered by insurance, not free, bon appétit! And don’t forget to tip your FOTB as you leave.
An obvious difference between the two events is Emily herself, and her appearance. Her delivery was a little difficult, and there was a “failure to progress”. So, instead of the relatively uncomplicated delivery we had planned in one of the lovely birthing rooms at Olmsted Community Hospital, we had to go into the delivery room. Emily was literally dragged into the world with forceps. Now, Liz was partially anesthetized and was not in a position to be able to see the baby, so she asked me, I’m standing right there, she asked me, “What does she look like?”
I looked at Emily in the doctor’s hands, and I looked back to my wife, this woman who had been through 28 hours of labor, all that pain, anxiety, effort and emotion, and I said to her, “It’s a purple lizard.”
Some of you are amused, some of you are horrified, which is the same reaction I got from the medical staff that day. Obviously, today, Emily is not a purple lizard. She is as dressed and fluffed and engineered as she has ever been in her life, and if I may say it, she is lovely.
One thing that has never changed, though, is how I feel about Emily. I was extremely proud to be the father of a purple lizard. I’m even more proud of the woman she has become. I’m proud to be the FOTB. I’m proud to be Eric’s new father-in-law. Liz and I hope that we have been good role models and teachers to you. We hope we will continue to be good role models and teachers as you share your life together. May that life be long, and good, and filled with God’s blessing.
To Em and Eric!