The Wedding: A Family's Coming Out Story (29 page)

September
1, 1996

SHELDON   
In the swarm of guests
reaching to shake our hands, embrace us, one friend said, “I’m proud to call
you my friend.” Even now, when I remember the kind tributes, I still get
emotional. Some were congratulatory, others were sympathetic, saying, “We’re
proud you were able to go through it,” and “We know how tough it was for you.”
Gay couples and singles came up and said things like, “I only wish my parents
could be here to see this. It would have made it so much easier for us.” As
wonderful as all this praise and gratitude felt, it also taught me something.
At most weddings, the attention is on the couple getting married, particularly
the bride, maybe because of the trappings, the gown, etc. The parents are far
in the background. There’s no spotlight on them. Now I realized that Roslyn and
I were sharing the focus with Andrew and Doug. As far as our friends were
concerned, anyway.

DOUG   
Andrew and I planned to share a
few moments of privacy after the ceremony, back in the storage room where we
had signed the
ketubah
. Bonnie had set up a breast-feeding station back
there for Eden, her four-month-old, so our seclusion consisted, more or less,
of a quick kiss and “How ya feeling?” Then we opened the doors from the mail
hall into the lobby where cocktails were being served. It was a Fellini-esque
fish-eye-lens view of the world. Face after distorted face pressed in for a
kiss, hug, or handshake. The first dozen to press our flesh were friends of
Roslyn and Sheldon. After each one offered sincere congratulations and hearty
well-wishes, I said something like, “I’m so glad you could be here,”
and
actually meant it
. I knew much of what Roslyn had suffered, but every face
I saw was beaming, and all the dissension, quarrels, and controversy seemed
eons away.

            Incredibly,
it took nearly an hour for us to travel the seven or eight feet to the bar,
with the crush of the crowd, all the smooching and backslapping. I floated
through that hour.

ROSLYN
   
Andrew
and Doug had asked their best men to offer toasts that would close out the
cocktails and announce the beginning of dinner. Lorne offered a few quick words
which seemed surprisingly off the cuff. (We learned later that he’d written a
speech in the style of a roast, but decided to scrap it after he saw the tone
wasn’t right for the event.) Then George stepped up to make his toast to the
couple of honor. And as George spoke just the first few words, it was clear he
had captured the aura of the evening, and spoke a blessing from the heart. And
the tears he barely held back, I shed for him.

           
I
have a lot of wishes for their relationship. The service was so beautiful and
so moving. And they all spoke many of the things that I’ve been feeling. In my
family my grandmother spoke a great deal about cherishing. It’s a very big word
in our family. And tonight, Doug, Andrew, I say to you that anytime two people
fall in love and have the courage to stake out a little strip of territory and
make a home together, it is something to be cherished.

            May
being together multiply life’s joys and minimize life’s obstacles. May you
always remember a dream we all wish for has enfolded you. Protect that, cherish
each other. May there always be a little patience. You have never been closer
together. May you never be farther apart. I wish you a lifetime of joy.
Mazel
tov.

DOUG   
As the crowd applauded, I
rushed up to throw my arms around him. I’d barely held back tears during the
ceremony, determined not to blubber in front of everybody. But damned if George
didn’t turn my waterworks on full force. Andrew rushed up too, and we all
embraced. Once I had my composure back, I reminded him of his one remaining
duty.

            “Now,”
George called out, “the most important thing I have to say this evening: ladies
and gentlemen, dinner is served!”

            Once
everyone else was inside, those of us at the head table had a moment to settle
in. Then I heard Louie announce the head table’s arrival, and the band started
the hora. It was Andrew’s idea to have us enter and go right into the hora.
Traditionally the family enters first, and the couple of honor has a first
dance, which may be followed by a hora. Or the hora might come much later.

            Having
the hora right at the top, it turned out, was ideal. Usually it starts out with
ten or twenty people, then widens to include more. But this night a huge crowd
rushed the dance floor. The hall was instantly transformed into a kaleidoscope
of kinetic energy, hands clapping, bodies whirling and turning in concentric
chains that trapped the intensity and kicked it up to some exponential power.

ANDREW   
Everything was moving at
lightning speed when somebody brought out the chairs. And before we knew it, we
were hoisted up, bouncing in midair. Or should I say, I was bouncing, and Doug
was flailing.

DOUG   
Whoever was holding the front
of my chair wasn’t pushing as high as the people in the back, so I was tipped
on a steep downhill slope. Andrew held the napkin in his hand, and was waving
for me to grab the other end, but I clutched it for just a second before I went
down with my chair. Everyone was laughing, and though I was mortified, I knew
the sight of my goggle-eyed fright just a few feet in the air was pretty funny.
In an instant we were back in a chair, kicking like crazy. Then, one by one,
Roslyn and Sheldon were pulled out in the middle, and it was their turn to bob
four feet off the dance floor. After my rapid dethroning, I was both impressed
and depressed over how long they stayed aloft.

ROSLYN
   
The
hora was the perfect antidote. It was an outlet for the incredible tension that
had built up prior to and during the ceremony. It was also an outpouring of joy
and support for the family and for the couple. Suddenly a movement began to
take place and it seemed as though all of Andrew and Doug’s friends had
embraced a mission, to get Sheldon and me on chairs and hold us aloft, a tradition
I thought was reserved for the newlywed couple.

            While
I was precariously perched on that chair above the crowd, I was sure that
either one of us or both would end up sliding off. I was shrieking, my mouth so
wide open that I was sure my tonsils were on display for all to see. At the
time I believed the terror was just about falling off the chair. In retrospect,
I realize it was in part because everything at this point in the evening had
gone so well that I was concerned about the high that had been reached. I
wanted to remain at this level, supported at last. Could this exhilarating
moment be sustained?

DOUG   
We all cheered as if Sheldon,
then Roslyn, had been shot into space, and when they returned to earth the hora
broke into the usual sub-circles so everyone could dance with their nearest and
dearest. In a jubilant blur we joined hands, leapt, bobbed, and swirled. Every
couple must feel enveloped by love at their own wedding. But it was so
profoundly moving for me, having always felt such an outsider, to find myself
invited – at long last – to the inside of the circle, at the center of this
uproarious celebration. As the tempo shifted into high gear, signaling the end
of the song was near, Andrew and I clasped hands and whirled in a dizzying ring,
my feet toe to toe with his, our bodies leaning back and the centrifugal force
of all our weight linked in our fingertips. With the music hitting a breakneck
pace, we spun like children, without a thought in the world but the music and
each other. As the band played its last ecstatic notes, we slowed back down at
last, and had one more deep, long embrace.

           
This
embrace, this instant, this place with these people, is the single happiest
moment of my life.

ANDREW   
As we stumbled to the
head table, I stopped and hugged Doug again. Filled with the love I felt in the
room, all the support and enthusiasm, I told Doug, “We should have had a first
dance after all.”

            It
was hard to believe that only a few days ago, when I first arrived in Montreal,
I was still fighting my own discomfort over the photo shoot, and even aspects
of the wedding itself. Doug smiled up at me, and I told him again, as I stopped
to give him one more hug, “I would have loved to have a first dance with you
tonight.”

ROSLYN
   
Friends
came up after the hora, “It’s so funny – you know what I just realized? I
didn’t even miss the bride.” And neither did I/ For at that moment the image
I’d carried with me so long of that woman at the other end of the procession
had finally be put to rest. I was confronted with the happiness and joy of
Andrew and Doug. At that moment and forever after I knew it was right, and
gender lines were simply obliterated.

DOUG   
Louie took the podium to
introduce Sheldon’s Uncle Rudolph, who rose slowly, took a long knife in his
hand, and ever so carefully cut the bread and said the prayer that
traditionally accompanies the ritual. Suddenly my objection to his being at the
head table seemed awfully petty. This task accomplished, Louie introduced my
sister, Lynn, who read a brief letter from my parents:

           
Because
we are unable to make the trip to Montreal, we have asked our daughter, Lynn,
to speak for us, as proud parents of our son, Douglas Alan. While it would have
afforded us a wonderful opportunity to meet with Andrew’s family and friends,
we regret that health concerns prevented us from attending these festivities.
Estelle and I take great joy and pleasure in this day and have asked our
daughter, Lynn, and granddaughter, Michelle, to let everyone in attendance on
this special day know that we are with them in our hearts and in spirit.
Mazel
tov
to Andrew and Douglas, and shalom to all, Fred and Estelle Wythe.

ROSLYN
   
Louie
took the podium once again and introduced the next speaker, my husband. “The
prime minister is coming, Elizabeth Taylor is on her way, Ross Perot’s plane is
late. But in the meantime, I want to introduce the man I happen to call my
favorite Canadian, Sheldon Merling.”

SHELDON   
As Louie introduced me,
I could almost feel in the air all the tension that had built up over the
question:
What’s this guy going to say? What words is he going to use? Is he
going to gloss over it, is he going to express platitudes that could apply to
any situation, like “Thank you very much, I hope you had a good time”? Or is he
going to give a political speech?
I began:

           
Rabbi
Bolton, Family, and Friends,

            On
behalf of both the Merling and Wythe families, I welcome you to this unique
celebration.

            We
have just experienced a ”first” for most of us – which, I hope, has been both
meaningful and rewarding.

            My
son-in-law David has suggested that this experience is like an
examination.
You        worry about it for many months, you work on it, study and prepare
for the big event – and then, suddenly, it’s all over in about four hours. I
think I will elaborate and expand on that thought. True, it is an exam in one
sense; that is, a
test
, which we all hope to pass. But it is much more
than that. Like an exam, it is not only a
test,
but a
learning
experience.
Personally I have learnt many things along the route culminating
with tonight. I should like to comment on two of them.

            Firstly,
I have learnt that it is right and proper that two individuals with a strong
bond of love and affection for each other should be allowed to enjoy all of
life’s beautiful experiences, freely and openly with their family and friends.
We value the relationship of Andrew and Doug – two wonderful people whom we
love dearly – and we would never want to suppress this.

ANDREW   
Applause broke out in
the hall. And while Doug’s waterworks were going full force once again, I was
dry-eyed, smiling a huge, appreciative grin. My father’s words, spoken in a
measured, thoughtful cadence, felt like a gift he was giving to me, to Doug, to
my mother, to everybody who’d worked so hard to make this happen. Yet it was
much more than that, too. Until this moment, I had seen the evening as a
celebration of my union with Doug. And that was all. But those last few words
took this event, this experience, to another level. The impact he made was
enormous. This wasn’t just about us anymore. Now everyone, including me, could
see the broader importance of what we had all achieved, as a family.