Three Weddings and a Funeral

I am aware that I am behind schedule in writing a blog a day. I will make it up by writing a blog for each of my sites this week.

I have been living through my own version of the Hugh Grant movie. Last weekend there were two weddings--one impromptu and one planned. I was called upon to do a poetic reading at the planned one. I also wanted to see my nephew Savion walk down the aisle. He is only two years old and some months. I didn't think he would do it but thought it would be fun to see him try. My prediction was correct. After pronouncing that he was going to walk down the aisle, he only made it half way to the altar. No amount of threats, prodding and begging made him budge. He also made a spectacle of himself at the reception. He tackled the bride, busted some mean moves on the dance floor, and wore the wedding cake on his face. He made it worth coming.

This past weekend I attended another cousin's wedding. It was a tad bizarre. The flower girl cried all the way down the aisle. After everyone arrived at the altar, which took at least 15 minutes, my cousin decided to ask his bride to forgive him for any offense or wrong he had done to her and release him. I thought that was a very sweet thing to do but it should have been done at a private moment. It made everyone think something was going on. My sister noted he probably should have said that to his ex-wife. Now she probably had a lot of grudges against him. The marriage ceremony continued under the officiation of a tag team of preachers, a married couple. They sounded like they were auditioning a comedy routine.

The funeral was for a minor local celebrity, Donna Blakely Jackson. She was a gospel singer whose career and family demanded the full COGIC treatment. That means her wake was a musical that lasted past midnight and her funeral was four hours long. It would have been longer but the cemetery demanded that they be there before they closed. So her eulogy only lasted 15 minutes.

All I need is the fourth wedding to make it fit Hugh Grant's title. Could it be mine? To be continued.