Tonawanda News — I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, then another one when the ceremony was done. (Good heavens. My baby brother is married.) The Keppelers, all four of them, headed for the party. I, for one, with an absence of stress I hadn’t felt in a while.
And — yes, I’m bragging here — they were awesome.
Jimmy never left the dance floor except to eat with his customary gusto and to visit with his beloved grandparents and other family members old and new. Sam danced with as many of the female guests as possible (the flirt) and accepted compliments on his wedding role with aplomb. By the end of the evening, he passed out in the arms of his father as we headed back to our hotel room. (Jim still had more energy than either of his parents.)
It was done. We survived. No major mortification, no need to leave the party, no need to apologize to my brother for the sort of incident that would doubtless give him sibling-ammo for many years to come.
Proud as we are, we can’t take all the credit for it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past eight years, it’s that you plan and you prepare all you can, but your children are essentially going to do their own thing anyway. All you can do is try your hardest, then hope for the best. (And be prepared for the worst.)
It’s just part of being a parent — for better or worse.
Jill Keppeler is a writer for the Tonawanda News. She can be reached at email@example.com.