A Wonderful Life

I stole the title for this post from my brother, from the email subject line for his beautiful message about Papa. It's been really difficult to process the events of our wedding weekend, everything that happened being so heavy, so meaningful, so joyful and then so sad. For the record, November 7th, 2015 will forever be one of the best days of mine and Adam's lives. Aunt Dana kept saying, still keeps saying, "It was magical." The gorgeous mountain view, saguaros sprouting up everywhere around us, our Nebraska-native friend wanted to play "Whack-a-Mole" with them, it was such a sight. Tucson has been such a part of me for my whole life, I had forgotten for a second to notice the sheer, unique beauty.  Aunt Kay wrote the most perfect, personal and loving ceremony I have ever heard, let alone been a part of, and Adam was tearing up a little from the very beginning. I didn't until Aunt Kay said, "Don't look at me!" I couldn't look at Adam because the desert sun shone right in my eyes. Tucson lit up below us at dark, Katie the photographer running around like a chicken trying to get in all of the photos before light faded. People say the photos are so important because the memories will fade, but I know they'll never fade for good. This was one of the most poignantly emotional weekends of my life.

Erik wrote so well about Papa. How Papa did admire his piano playing. It doesn't make me jealous. It was so funny, even to me, that time not long ago at Christmas I think, Papa was bragging about Erik to some neighbor he'd caught on his fishing line, and I was sitting there, too, either in the garage or the living room, and he said, my grandson, oh boy what a scholar, such a beautiful piano player, and here's Bethy, she's just a schlooser! Never could figure out the best way to spell that. No one has quite the way of talking that Papa did, what a colorful man. I used to be so scared as a little girl staying at Placita North Fuente, see, I always clogged the toilet. It was a terrible little toilet, and I didn't want Papa to get mad at me. I'd have to run and find Mimi or my mom to help. I think one time it happened right before Mimi and Papa were going to drive us to the airport.

I especially loved when Mimi and Papa would come to Colorado, usually for mine and Erik's September birthdays. I'd request a meal for Mimi to make, the unforgettable year that I made her slave away all day while I was at school, she made homemade fried chicken. Was that the last time she made it? What a spoiled girl was I, am I still. Papa loved Buster and vice versa, just like Rockie. It was so exciting getting home from school to Mimi and Papa in the living room. I love having these memories. They make me feel so happy, even as tears spring to my eyes, because Erik's right...maybe what's special about them is we know that we can never go back and live them again.

Papa loved his family in the most steadfast and devoted way a man can, and what a wonderful family we have. There are no better times for me than when we're all together. What I picture immediately is all of us in Tucson - Christmas Eve at Aunt Debbie's, a fajita cookout at the Groll house, singing "We Need a Little Christmas" loudly and horribly to Uncle Larry on the phone. Playing Scattegories at Mimi's, Papa yelling at us to keep it down over Fox News blaring. Chicken tetrazzini and Texas cake. Cheese and crackers, white wine, Papa's bright orange cheesy spread, every night a party.

It's like our motto:

"Live in the present, and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering." -Ida Scott Taylor

I think we've always done a darn good job of this. Thank you for accepting Adam into our family with open arms and making our wedding day so wonderful, so perfect. I love you all forever and ever.