A Toast to My Brother-In-Law

This is the 6th or 7th draft of this toast. I'm still working on it and tweaking as the inspiration strikes.

A toast to my brother-in-law, on the occasion of his wedding to Lydia.

I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at. ~Maya Angelou

Family bonds are grown and cemented over the years through a history of shared experiences: mundane meals, funny cooking disasters, late nights and hangovers, silly photographs, acts of kindness and practical jokes, celebrations of accomplishments, and difficult times... through celebrations and tragedies alike.

I knew of Michael before I met him. Steve talked a little about his brother, the popular water polo player, the Greenwich boy. Mike and I first met when Steve brought me to their grandparents' home for Mike's college graduation party. Steve hadn't bothered to tell me he hadn't ever officially "brought a girl home" to meet the family, so there was more fuss than I expected, and Mike seemed to find all the Italian ladies swarming around and overwhelming me pretty amusing. We got to know each other through the next several years, while Steve and I were dating, engaged and married. Mike slowly became the brother I wasn't born with, but the one I laughed with (and at), depended upon, got mad at, smacked, threw things at, forgave, and most importantly, loved. Mike has grown into one of the most kind-hearted men I know, with a wonderful sense of humor. He is someone who understands how important it is to show those around you how much you love them, and he works at that every day.

Steve and Mike's mother was one of the strongest, most loving, spirited, and opinionated women I have ever known. As with many other relationships, we had our differences and came to terms with them through time. During the summer before she passed away, I made sure to go and hold her hand and talk with her every day as she was able, hoping she would help me understand what I should do for her grandchildren. They were the easy part, though, and she knew that more than I did. When Lucille was very ill, she took my hand one afternoon as she lay propped in her bed, and told me the best thing she ever did was raise two good boys. She said "Take care of my boys. I know you'll take care of Steven. You take care of Michael too -- you're the one who will do it." It took her a long time to tell me that, because she kept losing her breath, but she made sure I heard every word, and she made damn sure I said yes. She knew then what Mike would face without her, and she entrusted him to me. This has been my charge, my sacred promise to her that I have tried so hard to keep. Now, I pass part of that charge on to Lydia... you, whom Lucille would have embraced and enjoyed so much, for your spirit and humor and lovely kindness and fun. I wish you could have met her -- she would have had so much fun with you. I believe she's happy today, because her beloved firstborn son is truly happy.

Going back to Maya Angelou's quote, marriage, much like sisterhood and brotherhood, is a lot of work. Sometimes it's an exotic vacation, sometimes it's a everyday stay-cation, sometimes it's treading water, and sometimes it's literally keeping each other's heads above water every few minutes. While all of that is true, none of it lasts too long before something changes. But it's worth it because all those experiences deepen and strengthen the love that keeps us all going. And family plays a crucial part in keeping marriages together and strong : we love the people who are our family: those who choose to help us, who choose to stand by us, and choose to be part of our lives during times both easy and difficult. Our family has evolved and changed over the last twenty years, with the comings and goings of life's events. It is love, above all that has sustained us and kept us together, and I am now and will always be grateful for the love that Mike has found with Lydia. Take care of my brother, dearest Lydia, and welcome to the family.