Shannon's Wedding Toast

The wedding was at 3 p.m. I arrived in England three days early to help with the preparations. Now I was dressed in my "mother of the groom" dress sitting in a beautifully lit room waiting for the ceremony to begin. I remember every moment of it as if it were in slow motion even though in real time it was over in a blink. Photos were taken inside and then everyone went outside where a few inches of soft puffy snow blanketed the ground and changed colors in the sunset.

The reception was at a nearby pub. As I entered, I saw three long tables in the back just past the long wooden bar. People I didn't know were arriving, gathering and mingling. I made my way to some people I had met and tried to get my bearings. Now is when anxiety really began to rear its ugly head. There was no question that I had had a choice when I was asked if I wanted to give a toast to the bride and groom. My yes was immediate and strong. Now, though I was not so sure.

I had taken several months to let the toast "gel" in my mind. When I started writing it down, I wrote and re-wrote it many times, putting the final touches on it on the plane ride over. When I sent it out to a few friends I got the same response, "it made me cry. Don't change a thing".

The meal was a lamb dish which was the best I had ever tasted. It was fabulous! Still, the anxiety was dancing strongly in my stomach and I knew the time was growing closer to when it would be my turn to address this room full of virtual strangers. I had a lovely conversation with the bride's grandfather who was sitting next to me and that seemed to calm me down and distract me from my anxiety.

Then it was time for the toasts to start. The bride's father went first. His toast was fun, with amusing antidotes and stories that put everyone at ease and got many laughs as well as mixed responses from the bride and groom. When he got close to finishing, my hands began to shake and I had to take a minute and go inside and get centered. Then I was on. I stood up confidently doing what I always do when I am uncomfortable in a social situation: pretend like I am my extroverted sister who can instantly put people at ease.

I started into my toast with prompts from my written papers. It was going well. I got through the opening and even got a few laughs. Then I started into the body of the speech and suddenly I hit a wall. The happy sadness of the life I had had as a single mom with my son fell on me and I started to choke up, trying to hold the tears back. I was totally surprised, as I had read the speech through many times and this had not happened before. Somehow in the midst of the emotions of the wedding, my true feelings had unleashed.

I tried my best to get a grip and it took what seemed like an eternity before I could continue on to the end. When I got through and looked up, every person in the place had tears in their eyes. I had read in my "giving toasts book", which I had purchased as I started thinking about the toast, that a good toast was one where there was laughter and tears. I guess if that is a true gage of a good toast then I succeeded. I am going to share my toast following this introduction and hope that it touches you as well:

"I am Paula, Shannon’s mother. I am pleased to be able to say a few

things about Shannon so that you can relax and appreciate Kirstyn’s
good taste in men. I hope by knowing him a little more you can have a
mother’s unbiased glimpse of the potential of this marriage.

A story from his childhood says it all: When Shannon was 4 the people
that I worked for started a Waldorf School and offered Shannon a
scholarship to attend. As the year came to a close I asked Shannon
what he wanted to do during the summer. (Shannon always had a strong
sense about what he needed from the time he was very small) He said,
without hesitation, “I need to go back to my old nursery school
because all of my friends will be going to different kindergartens in
the fall and I need to spend time with them. So I enrolled him in
Walnut Street School. When I picked him up the first day his teachers
met me and informed me that Shannon had had a rough day. When I asked
why they said that the kids had been so excited about Shannon being
back. All morning they kept after him on who he liked better. By the
middle of the afternoon he had reached his breaking point so that when
some little girls wanted to know if he loved Cameron or Desmund or
Jennifer the best he turned around and yelled, “I love you all, each
for different reasons. But right now I’m just trying to learn to love
myself”.

As Shannon grew up he was a handful because he was so brilliant and
talented, compassionate, imaginative and inspiring, sweet and
sensitive. All I wanted to do was protect him. In spite of my lofty
mother wishes to make things easy, safe and happy for Shannon, I
couldn't always. Today, though, I couldn't be prouder. He is all of the
things he was as a little boy and he is a man that I have deep
respect for and greatly admire. And "I love you very much”.

To be honest, all I ever really wanted for Shannon was for him to be
happy. I experienced a taste of this happiness when he told me about
Kirstyn, when he first introduced us, and when I had a chance to be
around them. With Kirstyn by his side on their life journey I know he
will be the best he can be and will be very, very happy.

My wish to you both is that all your dreams come true, that you have
everything that you need and that you love each other tenderly
forever".

Having only one child, I will never have to give another toast--at least in that setting. I got over my embarrassment when a young man who works with my son told me he had never felt so much love in any speech before. That gave me pause for thought and got me out of myself to appreciate the authenticity of the words that came directly from my heart. Anxiety has no place when the truth is present. I am proud of my son, his wife and myself for making it through this rite of passage and am very, very glad it is over.