My Daughters-in-Law

Alert: This is another one about family, not the Civil War or my Civil War novels.

This weekly post is late because our younger son Ben was married last Saturday. The wedding took place in the Methodist church here in little Lockhart. It’s the same church where Ben was baptized, pretty much even the same spot on the floor. The bride was beautiful, naturally, and the ceremony packed with bits that will be warm long-term memories. Even the bagpiper will be remembered, although his first blast on the pipes was enough for the two-year old flower girl to let out a scream, do an immediate about-face, and hightail it back down the aisle. The mothers of the bride and groom sang a gorgeous duet together, and I got to watch our older son and our niece serve communion to their 95-year-old grandfather and their slightly younger grandmothers.

It was a wacky weekend, full of family and noise and preparations and gatherings, planned and spontaneous.

The tooting bagpiper led the wedding guests in a walking procession two blocks down the street to the reception venue, which was a 3-story building on the old town square, a structure that started as a wagon factory around 1900. Since Lockhart is the barbeque capital of Texas, the dinner menu consisted of slowly smoked beef briskets and hot link sausages, along with Shiner Bock Beer and Becker Wine, all from Central Texas.

But this post ain’t really about all that Texas vanity, or even the wedding. It’s about my daughters-in-law.

Nita and I raised two sons and no daughters, so my experiences with young women haven’t really had the chance to expand beyond viewing them as an alien species. Yes, I’ve learned a lot about the other gender from my wife, and I do have a little sister, she who as a wee child once clobbered me in the forehead with an iron railroad spike (the dent is still visible).

Happily, our sons’ wives haven’t taken up weapons against me. Rather, they’ve impressed me and even indulged me.

On October 10, 2010, that was10-10-10, Ben ran the Chicago Marathon. Todd and his fiancé Maggie went with us to watch and spend a holiday weekend there. During the race we rode the subway (El?) from one spot to another to catch a glimpse of Ben going by. We went to the finish line in a park, along with tens of thousands of others, collected Ben, and then went for Chicago deep-dish pizza.

Between bites, Maggie, who has never been a runner, announced she was going to run a marathon next spring in Dallas, and of course Todd would too. Todd groaned, and I smiled and thought a sarcastic, “Right, sure you are. All twenty-six, point two miles. Right.”

The next March, Nita and I watched Todd, Ben, and Maggie finish the Dallas Marathon. And they’ve run several half-marathons since then. I’m impressed. The girl has grit, and I like that.

Enter Ben’s fiancé Meredith. She’s not a runner either. But she won me over the day she announced she wanted to take part in a Civil War reenactment as a soldier, to put on a smelly wool uniform and march and shoot alongside Ben and me and Todd. She did it and was great. Another gritty girl has found her way into our family.

So…I’m learning about young women and have become enchanted with my daughters-in-laws.

Three points stick in my mind about their species:

First, they make our sons happy, just as Nita has made me happy for the past 44 years. Bless them all for that.

Second, they are making our sons better men. Our sons are often slobs, and the positive influence of Maggie on Todd is apparent, and I fully expect Meredith will have the same impact on Ben.

Third: They bring forth grandchildren for Nita and me. We are now the grandparents of three, and loving it. Yes, Ben is Meredith’s second spouse, and she brought two gorgeous little daughters to this marriage. In reflection on that, life is all about trying to do the right things, but making mistakes anyway, forgiveness, and renewal. I had a short failed marriage as a twenty-year old idiot, and Nita was there for me afterwards, so I sure can’t criticize Meredith. But I sure can love those precious little girls.

Next week I promise to get back to the Civil War.