My little sister got married again yesterday. She found her new husband at Vons*. She said that she had prayed to God to help her find one. She told the Lord that she was tired of being single. On a Sunday morning, right after church, she went to Vons and decided to treat hubby hunting (I paraphrase here) like shopping. She would go up and down the aisles until she found the right one.
So on faith she looked all over the store. But she didn’t see any husband—or at least none that suited her fancy. But when she stepped outside, right there in the parking lot —lo and behold— there he was. She said she knew it instantly. He was on a motorcycle, wearing a cool black jacket and shades. She pointed her cart in his direction and walked her svelte figure in her Sunday heels right over to him.
She quickly determined they had a lot in common. He was a marathon runner and played the guitar. He said he restored motorcycles. That gave her the perfect excuse to ask for his phone number. “Oh,” she said, “I have a tenant who works on motorcycles. I’ll give him your number. . . ”
But most important, when she told him she’d just been to church, he said, “I’ve got to start going to church again. . . .” She knew her prayers had been answered when he confessed he was a believer too.
Naturally, I, as the older and wiser big sister, tried to get her to wait a few months, until that giddy head-over-heels-in-love feeling runs it’s course. But by the time I lured her into my yoga room to talk sense to her they’d already been to the courthouse for a license and to the jeweler for rings.
So yesterday, the day before the Autumnal Equinox, at 5:00 p.m., I found myself hiking up a steep winding mountain trail overlooking the ocean with the fittest wedding party you could ever hope to see. The groom’s buff runner friends sprinted ahead, carrying photo equipment, champagne, apple juice, and bouquets of flowers. The non-running friends and family members sweated our way to the top in the course of an hour, stopping to catch our breath and enjoy the spectacular view.
The Universal Life Church Minister wore a black-and-white spotted cow costume. (I kid you not!) My four-year grand niece kept staring at his udder, right at her eye-level. By way of explanation, when he made his appearance, he said “Holy Cow!” (But I was thinking of that expression, “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free.”)
The bride and groom said the vows they had each written and I heard my sister promise to “submit to my husband” . . . . (i.e., at least two weeks.)
After the ceremony, I had three glasses of champagne mixed with a little apple juice. I lagged way behind the rest of the wedding party to revel in my aloneness as we made our way back down the mountain. As the sun set over the ocean I enjoyed my solitude and the magical effect of the sparkling “apple juice.”
Udderly unbelievable!
* For those of you who live beyond Ojai, Vons in a Southern California supermarket chain. Their motto is “Ingredients for life.”
Suzaji's Blog 
Leave a Reply