This past weekend, a good friend of our son's got married. My son and his friend have been buddies since second grade. In high school, they became friends with three other guys, and these five guys have stayed in touch through college and into the early years of marriage. They're rarely all together anymore, but at this wedding, four buddies stood up with their mutual friend, the groom.
The bride and groom were lovely and all the festivities were great, but what kept pulling at my heart was seeing these five buddies all grown up. They used to be scrawny kids, and then gangly teens, but now they are broad-shouldered, employed young men, one of them a father. It made my heart ache in a tender, beautiful way.
There were hundreds of pictures taken at the wedding/reception, most of which I've not seen yet, but this picture stole my heart.
Four grown buddies watching the groom and his new wife cut the cake (our son is second from the left.) Their tux jackets came off after the wedding ceremony, and their shirts are a bit rumpled from line dancing. Throughout the reception, they laughed and joked like they did in high school. They posed for endless pictures, slow danced with their wives, and helped clean up when the party was over.
I love these boys. I love that they stay in touch and help one another out when needed. I love that they respect adults and tolerate hugs from their moms, and other moms. So quickly, boys turn in to men.
If you have a little boy, steal as many smooches as you can. Wrestle with him, and play baseball with him, and teach him how to be a gentleman. Tell him how God designed him to protect girls from dragons and young women from players. Give him a sense of pride in the strength and provision abilities of the male psyche. Assure him God has a plan for his life.
Then, some day, when he stands up for a buddy at a wedding - or at his own wedding - you will have tears of gratitude and love in your eyes.
Aww. :-) So sweet!
ReplyDeleteWhat a tender image and post. :)
ReplyDeleteThat was lovely.
ReplyDelete