Ode to Family

Our baby boy only has one surviving grandparent, my father. This is the reality of getting knocked-up so late in life. However, as I learned a few weekends ago, our babe is blessed with a huge extended family.

A few months ago, my father said in passing that he was getting married. It wasn’t entirely unanticipated, but these things always take awhile to sink in.

“Do you want to come to BC for the wedding?” he asked.

“Oh, sure, all 300 lbs of me,” I replied. “Why not have it here in Montreal? I can arrange EVERYTHING.”

Oops, the words had left my lips without engaging my brain. Really, I did think it would be easy: A few dogs on the BBQ, some patio lanterns and voila a wedding….for a TEENAGER!

Thanks to the incredible help from my sibs, kids, husband and friends, a beautiful ceremony with exotic catering was held in our backyard. Due to my “condition," I unbelievably took on the role of dictator - a task I’m not at all familiar with. Family scuttled and scurried under my watchful eye and all worked out wonderfully. (I am sure that I could have closed my eyes and it would have been equally fantastic.)

Throughout the whole weekend, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews and sons and daughters always stopped to make sure the babe and I were OK. There was much tummy rubbing and anticipation of our big day.

Our babe may only have just one grandfather, but he recently acquired and new grandmother. With her, his three sisters, one brother, nine cousins and many aunts and uncles, I need never worry that he’ll be alone.