It’s Good to be a Favorite

I usually hate photos of myself, but this is me and my 94-year-old grandmother at my cousin Jason’s wedding this past weekend. It’s a family joke that my older cousin Brad and myself are The Favorites (so are Adam and Jennifer, but even among The Favorites, some are more favored than others), and well, it’s true. It’s good to be a favorite, and look at the picture, there I am basking in it. My grandmother and I adore one another — and although it was difficult to visit much since it was a big party, and she can neither see nor hear very well anymore — we had a wonderful time hanging out together and she regaled my dear old friend John with stories about the history of the farm.

The wedding was wonderful. Jason and Jackie met in 4-H when they were both about fourteen, and have been living together for the past ten years or so. They really love one another and it was one of those sweet weddings where everyone is just thrilled about two people who really seem to belong together. The wedding party included Jason’s older brother Adam, who is also a favorite. I almost never get to see Adam, because he moved to Missouri where his wife’s family is from. Here’s a pic of me and Adam, and as you can see, even my slightly grumpy cousin Adam was having a good time at the wedding: 

Our cousin Matt took the picture — Matt, who I haven’t seen since he was about seven. I’m the oldest girl of all nine cousins, and Matt was one of the little ones I spent a lot of time carrying around on one hip, and I was afraid I wouldn’t recognize him. But there he was — this big grown up man with Matt’s funny little face still (you probably wouldn’t see this unless, like me, you hadn’t seen him since he was a kid). I had a nice visit with both of them, and in that funny way that family sometimes works, you would have thought we’d all just seen one another last week, it was that comfortable. On the way out from the city, we drove through several rain squalls, but it cleared up in time for the ceremony, and then afterward the sky turned that gorgeous pale blue, the clouds were fluffy and white, the fields were all green, and my aunt Molly’s new foal was frolicking in the paddock with his mother. It was about as lovely a wedding as I’ve ever been to …