Baby Boomer Memory Lane – The Marriage of Our First Born

[Edited on February 7, 2016]

One of the rites of passage for many Baby Boomers these days is the marriage of our children.

Our older son, Ben, married Andrea. Before their marriage, they were a couple for four years, including two years of co-habitation. This was not a hasty, spur of the moment wedding. They had already purchased a house together prior to their marriage and they did all their own wedding planning—a huge relief for me since I am possibly one of the world’s worst party planners once the guest list is over 10 people.

Since Ben and Andrea did all the wedding planning, we didn’t know all that much about their wedding until the Big Day. It was lovely and several orders of magnitude more upscale than ours had been. I guess I realized this would be the case when in December of 2011, Ben called me:

Ben:  Mom, what do you know about diamonds?

Me:  Umm, nothing.

Steve (Mr. Excitement) and I were (and some say, are) pretty intensely practical. No engagement ring. My wedding dress cost $35.00 at Loehmanns. Our marriage ceremony lasted about ten minutes in a rabbi’s study with only close family, followed by an open house reception in my parents’ small backyard catered by Foodarama (deli sandwiches). Our splurge was a honeymoon trip to Peru. Actually, I don’t think our priorities have changed all that much. We’ll definitely choose travel over diamonds every time.

Ben has lived independently since he left home three months after his college graduation. He’s a grownup. His impending nuptials spurred us into finally converting our VHS baby-child videos into a digital format. Consequently, I have spent many hours (when I was supposed to be doing other things) watching baby Ben morph into toddler Ben morph into teenage Ben morph into young adult Ben.

The young man who is now all grown up, was:

• A baby who never slept at night. Ever. He only wanted to sleep in the day time.

  Ben visiting Valley Forge National Historical Park out side Philadelphia when he was 4 months old

• A baby and toddler who considered a dose of oral liquid penicillin to be at least as serious as a total blood transfusion which is why I always had to ask the pharmacist to give me extra because a certain amount was guaranteed to end up on me, his father and the ceiling.
• A toddler who had to be restrained by at least two adults for the pediatrician to be able to look in his ears with an otoscope.

  Ben getting his first haircut (not his first exorcism).

• A three and a half year old big brother who took a few days to get his baby brother’s name right —“No, not Jimmy, not Jackery. Right, his name is Jeremy,” and who wanted Jeremy to get big so he could play. (This was Ben’s first lesson in, “Be careful what you wish for”. Jeremy grew up to be taller and an exercise physiology major with a special interest in weight training.)

  Ben, Jeremy and Steve after our hike up Pine Cobble, Williamstown, Massachusetts, in the Berkshire Mountains

• A big brother who was a little rough with his toddler brother, but who begged us to erase the video recording documenting this behavior when we pointed out that Jeremy might not be too happy about this treatment when he saw the family video tapes when he grew up.

  Ben and Jeremy during our visit to Crystal Cave, Kutztown, Pennsylvania

• A little kid who held tightly onto my hand all the way up our block to the school on his first day of kindergarten, but who pulled his hand away half way there on the second day.

  On the first of our many annual pumpkin expeditions

• The boy who loved to go to a farm to choose Halloween pumpkins and whose Halloween costumes were a purple dragon (when he fit into his lavender Dr. Dentons), a doctor with his Daddy’s doctor bag and med school stethoscope (until he outgrew the scrub pajamas a great aunt gave him as a birthday gift), a ghost (because even his mother could figure out how to make that costume), Superman (a costume again inspired by some pajamas), and a ninja (when his great grandmother gave him and his brother ninja costumes. But, seriously, Nona, we could have done without the “toy” nunchucks.)
• The little boy whose eyes I saw as wide as saucers when I looked up from performing unsuccessful CPR on his grandfather.

  Ben mentoring his younger brother, Jeremy, on a fishing outing in Stone Harbor, New Jersey

• The kid who rightly warned me not to bring his little brother along on a trip to the Civil War battlefield at Gettysburg.

  Family trip from hell to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

• The boy who I realized was taller than I on a family trip to Cozumel.

  12 year old Ben taller than I in Cozumel, Mexico

• The fifteen year old who broke his leg rough-housing in a friend’s backyard, causing us to receive a Friday night phone call that went something like, “Ben is hurt. Ben is hurt bad.”
• The teenager who insisted he and his brother no longer needed an after school babysitter because he would (and did) prepare dinner every night.
• The college junior we insisted study in Sydney, Australia for a semester because we believe travel is a valuable part of education—who left his bank card in the photocopier in our town library and realized it was missing — when he got to Fiji.
• The college senior who brought home, Bailey, the frat dog, for winter break, which showed me that I missed having a dog.

  Andrea and Ben

• The young man who introduced us to Andrea whom we all agree is an excellent match for him and who we “officially” welcomed into our family in May of 2013.

Ben and Andrea cutting their wedding cake.