There is a 1994 film I am sure you’ve all seen, Four Weddings and a Funeral. It is one of those movies when you happen upon it, you stop and finish it. I doubt it won any awards, but it is sweet, kind and stars Hugh Grant who is nice on the eyes.
I was thinking about that movie last weekend as I attended my nephew Tom’s wedding. Two of my brothers have died in the past six months. Two too many as far as I am concerned, but I don’t control the world—I merely dream that I do. Life though has a way of moving on even though you are still grieving. Tom married Jen, and Shelby and Ted, another nephew, welcomed a new son. So, our movie would be titled Two Funerals, A Wedding and a Baby.
While I think my nephew Tom is almost as good-looking as Hugh Grant (he pulled off velvet loafers with his tux!), his wedding was bittersweet. Not only because two of his uncles weren’t there but because his best man and best friend since first grade died earlier in the year. Life has been just a series of gut punches for all the Fitzgeralds, but somehow that song by one-hit wonder Chumbawamba keeps playing in the back of my head: “I get knocked down but I get up again. You’re never gonna keep me down.”
And that’s what this weekend felt like. When the band started playing, it was time to start dancing, but my peeps weren’t there to make me look better. Both my brothers, Tim and John, danced at weddings. They weren’t good dancers; they weren’t even average. All of us lack any sort of rhythm, but we act with the confidence of The Radio City Rockettes. Once “Shout” started, it seemed wrong not to dance. So, as the lead singer encouraged us to ‘get a little louder now,’ we did. I could see my brother Mike and his wife, Pam, dancing. Teresa and David, parents of the groom, were in the thick of the mob, and I swear on the other side, Tim and John were doing the same thing, still as goofy as ever but nonetheless throwing their hands back and kicking their heels up just like the lyrics of the song tells them to. (Oh, for those of you counting Fitzgeralds, yes, Dennis was missing. He had an excused absence!)
Over the past few months, I’ve learned a lot about grief. It hurts and it is uncomfortable. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be to lose your spouse. I know how it feels to lose a parent but not in the prime of their life. All I know is that when a sibling dies, it feels like a little piece of you is missing. Strangely, I think I still see them in crowds of people, and my dreams about them are always about the nice stuff they did, not any of the typical brother/sister teasing. I just miss Tim and John.
But last weekend, we were all together. Dancing, or at least attempting to, and singing along, “Say that you love me … “
I hope you see all the people you want to see. Peace my peeps.