Aunt Joyce

Aunt Joyce was my dad’s youngest sister. I thought she was 10 years younger because she was so much fun. Turns out she was only 2 years younger, my dad just acted way older. When we would visit the family in Minnesota, Aunt Joyce would take us kids to the park or to get some fast food. She always had a ready laugh and made us feel special.

When word traveled South that Aunt Joyce was getting married, we were all elated. No one more than me. It was 1984, I was 9 years old, and a few of my friends had already been flower girls or junior bridesmaids so I figured my time had arrived. I would practice walking down the hall from my bedroom to my living room, slowly but with purpose. I cut up paper into small pieces, put it in a burnt orange Tupperware container, and gracefully tossed it on the ground, imagining that it was flower petals. I felt kind of bad for Aunt Joyce because I knew I would be SENSATIONAL and STUNNING when I walked up the aisle at St. Theodore Catholic Church. Even at that young age, I knew you were never supposed to look better than the bride.

You can imagine my surprise when I was informed that I would NOT be a flower girl or Junior bridesmaid. That job would go to my cousins, Shelley and Nikki, who lived in Minnesota and were very close to Aunt Joyce. My job, along with my brother Bob and cousin “little” Bob, was to collect gifts at the front door from the attendees and take them to the fellowship hall in the basement. I thought there was some mistake. How would I SHINE at this job?

Yesterday, I asked my siblings what they remembered about Aunt Joyce’s wedding. Both replied that they remember being excited and honored to be given the jobs that they were given(even though my sister Amy couldn’t remember her job because memory is the first thing to go). I remember feeling skeptical about the whole situation.

Luckily, my mother sensed this skepticism and hyped up the job. She also bought me a new dress with a doily for a collar and tights that had a design on them. I was starting to think that maybe all was not lost and it would still be a fun trip.

I don’t remember much about the wedding. I remember my Aunt Joyce looking so beautiful in her gown and hat that flipped up on one side, the height of fashion in 1984. I remember being surrounded by tons of family, some who I knew and some whom I had never met. But what I remember most is ripping my tights because I HAD THE BEST TIME racing the “Bobs” up and down the stairs to put the gifts in the basement. We would actually elbow each other out of the way to say to an attendee “May I take that gift for you?” and then race down the steps, almost knocking over anyone who came in our way.

We are embarking on the summer wedding season. Some people I know have 8 weddings to go to this summer. A couple of kids I’ve known since they were born are tying the knot this August. We have one wedding to go to and we are so looking forward to it. Not only because we love the couple, but also because we don’t have any jobs to do at the wedding. My days of wishing I was in the wedding are long gone. Nowadays, all I want is good food, meaningful conversation, and an open bar. And if I can find great tights that have a design on them, well, that’s just icing on the cake.