{"id":4184,"date":"2021-08-09T18:26:54","date_gmt":"2021-08-10T01:26:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.eaf.net\/mvp\/?p=4184"},"modified":"2021-08-15T14:52:06","modified_gmt":"2021-08-15T21:52:06","slug":"we-now-have-ten-children","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.eaf.net\/mvp\/2021\/we-now-have-ten-children\/","title":{"rendered":"We Now Have Ten Children!"},"content":{"rendered":"

Our son Drew gave us the opportunity to be among the invited speakers at their wedding reception. He acknowledged knowing that I’m not a fan of open mic, but wanted me to say something anyway. Well, what’s a Dad to say but, “OK”? \ud83d\ude00<\/p>\n

I drew up a fine list of potential things to say weeks ago. And put the matter out of my mind pending further review on the way to the wedding in Pennsylvania. Due to a series of factors, the review never happened. But I knew I could take my computer with me to the reception and do my memory refreshing before the wedding (or whatever I thought).<\/p>\n

The wedding day came and I, forgetting that important detail, decided not to take my computer to the wedding site. When that unfortunate detail dawned on me, I found myself 30-40 minutes distant from my computer! And I could remember nothing of my notes except the two things most important to me. Good enough.<\/p>\n

And from there sprouted what I will call the keenest disappointment for me of the whole trip. <\/p>\n

You see, when I was called to the mic by Mister EmCee Himself, I ad libbed one of the finest opening remarks one could make on so grand an occasion: “I hate open mic!” \":mrgreen:\"<\/p>\n

\""I
“I hate open mic,” said the father of the groom.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

After a few other comments, I was ready for my first, most important thing to say. But my mind wasn’t ready to inform my tongue what to say. My cerebral archivist would not give up the secret of what that point was! For the life of me, I could not remember the most important thing I wanted to say!<\/p>\n

So I did the most important thing I wanted to do. I told Drew and Anne that I had selected a special song for them to sing and “Please come forward.” I saw the newest wife in the room shaking her head. Uh oh. Trouble in paradise. Unless I mean, “We’ve got a problem, Houston.”<\/p>\n

I’m sure in my heart of hearts I knew that the next thing to say aloud was not, “Beam me up, Charlie.”<\/p>\n

So with bold recklessness I continued calmly and confidently, “It’s an easy song. It’s an old family favorite. Go ahead and come up, you’ll be glad you did.”<\/p>\n

I should have thought to preface that with something reassuring along the lines of, “You’ll have to trust me on this. I will not embarrass or mortify you.”<\/p>\n

They bravely — I wonder what other adjectives fit — came forward. Whew! Maybe we could land this thing safely without any help from Charlie or Scotty after all.<\/p>\n

As they made their way toward us on the first great adventure of their marriage, I had another reckless thought: “Ruby and I will stay here and make this a quartet.”<\/p>\n

(OK, this is getting too long, but I’m a detail-oriented storyteller. So stick around. Or leave, if you’d rather. If you miss out on the rest of the story, it’s not my loss.)<\/p>\n

\"Reckless
Reckless Roth Pa whispers the special song to the newlyweds.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

When they arrived within strangle-Drew’s-Dad range, I turned my back on the audience and told the wary couple what I had in mind. I also gave them another option. As the newest head of home in the room, Drew seized it like a fish out of water. (He takes after his Pa, it would seem.)<\/p>\n

So he made a brief announcement to the gathered hundreds, asking them to join us in singing this old family favorite, assuring them they would be able to do so.<\/p>\n

“Happy birthday to you,
\nHappy birthday to you,
\nHappy birthday, dear Amber,
\nHappy birthday to you!”<\/div>\n
\"Grandma
Grandma Roth and Uncle Drew point to now-nine-year-old Amber Roth.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Their niece — Drew’s older brother’s second-born — turned nine years old on the first day of their marriage.<\/p>\n

I didn’t pull my “stunt” to be disruptive or unique or even dumb. I just felt bad for my grandchild having “her” day so eclipsed. It’s what Grandpas do. I hope.<\/p>\n

When Ruby and I sat down at our table again, I remembered the most important thing I wanted to say! But by then Anne’s Dad had been called to take his turn as the final-before-the-couple speaker.<\/p>\n

I tried to get the emcee’s attention after Anne’s Dad finished his piece. I wanted to go back up and add my little-but-huge-for-me missing piece. It goes something like this:<\/p>\n

“In 1991, our last daughter was born — Chayli. Fifteen years later, we got our next daughter — Shari, our son Russell’s wife. And fifteen years after that, we got our next daughter — Anne, our son Andrew’s wife. Welcome to our family, Anne.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I probably would have added something else I’d thought of earlier…if my emotions were still holding up by then:<\/p>\n

“Anne, you are now our youngest child and Drew is now your parents’ oldest child. That will be quite a role reversal adjustment for both of you — from being the oldest in one family to being the youngest in another, and vice versa.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

But the emcee called the Drew and Anne to the mic for closing comments instead. And who is it that would blame him?! \ud83d\ude2f Actually, he probably didn’t see me flapping one of my wings over my head.<\/p>\n

\"BirthdayNevertheless, I am exceedingly happy to have sprung the “old family favorite” on Amber. Thank you so much, Drew and Anne, for cooperating with me in this noble endeavor. \ud83d\ude06 Even if it cost you a few anxious, nervous moments. That was a very happy set of moments for me — seeing Amber standing there listening to herself being acknowledged in the midst of a big wedding reception. Her big grin was super special to me. Thank you again.<\/p>\n

I just wish I would have thought to hoist a banner with her name at the appropriate moment so people would know whose name to use. And I wish I would have remembered to have a candle ready to poke in one of the cupcakes. I wanted the newest married couple to take it to her or call her up to them. So we could have photos of it and the three of them.<\/p>\n

Well, what didn’t happen didn’t.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, our daughter Dora thought I should tread carefully with Anne for a while. She thought I put our relationship on thin ice. \":mrgreen:\" That Dora — she’s a funny one, alright.<\/p>\n

Maybe all that mask wearing on our way from Oregon to Pennsylvania messed with the recollectibles in my head. But that’s a whole nuther story that should cumber its own blog post.<\/p>\n

So, Drew and Anne, as your marriage began with giving up some of your limelight to shine on another, may your lives — individually, together, and as a family — give good things to others, especially those who seem to be less blessed than you. (And remember it’s always Be Nice to Dad Roth Day, no matter how wroth he may make you feel.)<\/p>\n

May we all live happily ever after in the hereafter. And even between now and then. Amen.<\/p>\n

\"Four<\/a>
Four hours or so after Drew and Anne’s wedding<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

(Every post should have an image, I’m told. I don’t have either of the ones I wanted, so I’m substituting one of the reckless Pa-in-law and his longsuffering wife. Dora took it several hours after the wedding. I should check my phone for clues as to where we were right then in addition to being in our rental car.)<\/p>\n

Additional notes about 24 hours after the original post:<\/strong><\/p>\n