We had an absolutely wonderful weekend in Cincinnati. The wedding, as I said before, was marvelous. Heather was beautiful and radiant, as all brides are supposed to be, and Andy was handsome, but then I’ve always thought that he looks good in a tux. I loved Mary’s outfit—her sisters had brought her a shawl from Spain—absolutely beautiful. And I finally got to meet Andy’s aunts, although we couldn’t understand a word we said to each other, since we lacked a common language, but they were very nice.

I danced a lot: with the groom, with all the groomsmen: Daniel, Tony, Oz, and Nathan. Funny thing was that Daniel, Tony, and Oz all cursed me soundly when I drug them out onto the floor (Daniel even insisted several times that he definitely hated me) but by the end of the evening Daniel and Tony were dancing to everything, and even Oz was out on the floor a couple more times. Of course the several bottles of champagne might have had something to do with that (I believe the aunts brought the bottles with them from Spain, and both Andy and Daniel love the stuff.) Heather and I even drug Andy’s dad out onto the dance floor, which was quite an accomplishment, since he also insisted that he absolutely was not going to dance.

The food was excellent, despite the fact that everything was running late due to traffic being backed up due to an accident. The wine was also apparently very good, since Michael drank at least a bottle and a half of it (I had half a glass of champagne for the toasts, and then stuck to soda and water for the rest of the evening. Which is good, because otherwise Susan might have had to drive.

And Brian (yes, even my brother and Stacie were there) and I were the cause of Andy getting a “Those are YOUR friends!” comment, as we kept banging the silverware against the wine glasses till they kissed. And a couple of times we refused to stop until they gave each other a real kiss. I have to say that Heather’s exasperated look was priceless. I’m thinking, however, that she did forgive me.

Also, I learned about a tradition that I’d like to know more about if anyone can provide anymore information. Mary said that in Spain, the couple’s godparents essentially take the place of the best man and the maid of honor. Susan said she had seen that at a Catholic wedding for a couple from South (or was it Central?) America, and thought it was a Catholic tradition, but I’ve never heard like that before, so my guess it is a Spanish tradition that moved to the new world, but I’d really love to know more about it. (I’m pretty certain it’s not a tradition in Lithuanian or Polish Catholic traditions, but I’ll ask my grandmother anyway.) I learned this because Mary told her sisters that in my wedding Andy was my “Godmother” which is rather amusing to say the least.

Mostly though, I was just so happy to be there, to see Andy get married, and to see them so happy together.