It was thanksgiving weekend of 1997.
I had set sail for Guelph University from a long and tumultuous
academic birth out of the Sudburian womb of Laurentian
University. My courses had all transferred properly and
everything seemed to be set in motion. I was on a bus, on the
way to Ottawa from Guelph, to stand in the wedding of a close
friend - Chris. The only other person standing on Chris's
side was my brother Adam. Chris was finally getting married
to his long-time love Rebekah. The wedding was taking
place in Navan, Ontario - a farming community on the east
side of Ottawa.
The previous summer was quite an interesting season for
me at Camp IAWAH. My good camp friend Garry (who was a
senior staffer with me) was back in Kingston at Queens
and my other friend Pat Garrett was in bible school in
Cambridge. My friend Steve Gray, though, was still in
Ottawa and finishing his last year of high school and going
batty in his parents house in Bells Corners. I was looking
forward to seeing Steve.
The bus pulled out of the University circle at Guelph and
chugged along Gordon Street, winding through the sparse
towns (like Aberfoyle) that separated Guelph from the 401.
The previous summer was also a landmark in the sense
that I started dating a girl who was on staff that summer.
I remember sitting with her on the tilebed - a large grassy
pad that covered the sewage bed at the camp - and
talking about my feelings for her. She was only 16 and I
was 20 but we had promised to take things slow and
not rush into anything. What was more amazing was
that Steve had also talked another girl (that very same
day) about his feelings for her and they began dating
as well. This wasn't planned - but kinda bonded Steve
and I in a way that would stick with us to this day.
The wedding came and went and my friend Chris
seemed very happy. He and Rebekah had dated for
almost a decade before getting married and I'm sure
that many people said 'finally' under their breath
during the reception, but I was happy to be part of the
day. You see - Chris was a friend of my brother's
before he was friends with me. Chris was about 3
years older than me. I knew Rebekah's sister from
camp but other than her, Rebekah, Chris and my
bro, I really didn't know a soul at this wedding. One
thing I remember clearly, though, was the priest
hangin' out with us before the ceremony in a tiny
room behind the sanctuary. He was a white-bearded man
who seemed quite aloof to most things. The night before,
someone took a picture at the rehearsal dinner that required
a flash. This priest (Allan, I think his name was) closed
and opened his eyes wide a few times (after the photo
had been snapped) and then looked at his hands for a solid
few minutes as if he was blind for life. In the small church
room, the day of the wedding, we were all remarking
about the great dinner at the rehearsal. The priest jolted
in, nervously 'Ha, yes - I, uh - I ate far too much and I
drank far too much' and then shook his head.
More to come.
