Good evening and bienvenidos. For the 3/4 of the room that don't know me and would like to refer to me as something other than "that tall one," I'm Francesca, the bride's self-deprecating cousin and forever-indebted friend. I'm going to try and stumble my way through this toast without turning on the waterworks, but chances are, I'm going to look like Alice Cooper by the end of this, with mascara running in obsidian streaks down my blubbering face. I've written a few humble words to try to venerate this beautiful bride. I say humble because the succeeding flowery adjectives and schmaltzy lines, though heart-felt and firmly mounted in the highest esteem, are, but mere shadows compared to actuality. I found it hard to articulate just how wonderful and meaningful Amber is, not just to me, but to anyone that knows her. To know her, truly is, to love her. So it is with deference and modesty that I attempt to do her justice here tonight.
Am is one of the kindest, warmest and most caring people you could ever be lucky enough to come across in this jaded and dizzying world. She is empathetic and sweet; bubbly and vivacious. She has the most fabulously infectious laugh that makes you want to laugh right along with her. She has this remarkable way about her, you just can't help, but be happy around her. She is so positive and full of life that it just radiates and flickers like a glinting column of white hot sun cutting through the tempestuous, iron-grey storm clouds of a dreary and mirthless afternoon. The juxtaposition of which is so brilliantly effulgent, you almost have to avert your eyes. I've always envied her endearing, subtle innocence. It has been the ideal temper to my pervasive cynicism.
We've not only grown up together, but have shared more experiences that I can possibly recount in a hefty volume, let alone a toast, however garrulous or rambling. But there are definitely some particular memories that shine like beacons in the dark recesses of my mind. I'll never forget the trips up north in those scorching July summers of our youth. I definitely will never forget the putrid smell of milk rotting in the noon-day sun as it soaked into the thirsty polyester fibers of the mini-van's thick carpeting, that you mistakenly got blamed for, even though it was totally Grandma. I just happened to be listening to "Georgie Boy" by Rod Stewart the other day. I was immediately transported back to those rose-tinted north bound trips and found that I had tears in my eyes. Those are still some of the best memories I have on record. The countless sleepovers, where we would stay up to watch Saturday Night Live back in its prime, singing the "Turkey in a Shoe" song over and over. I don't know how many times we rewound the "lay by the bay" scene in Happy Gilmore and laughed our asses off until two in the morning. As it turns out, "Grizzly Adams did have a beard." Or the time in middle school where we sat in my basement eating raw fund-raiser cookie dough out of a three pound tub and contemplated life. God, we were just kids then, but, of course, we thought we had it all figured out. I still maintain that some of those afternoon sugar-high induced revelations were pretty spot-on, though. We've contemplated life many times since and no matter how far away we were or how busy our separate lives seemed to be, whenever we got together, it was like no time had passed at all, like nothing had changed. We were still those two goofy kids fighting over Barbies and playing Mall Madness. It was like coming home.
Whether she knows it or not, this girl saved my life once. She unknowingly pulled me back from the brink of a gripping, despondent melancholy just by sharing a box of Golden Grahams and a few laughs with me one cold, wintry afternoon, not so long ago. It was her simple kind gesture and thought that finally cracked my icy catatonia. Her warmth and compassion were the much-needed tonic to my morose stupor. But that's just Amber. Like I said, she just has that way about her, that hard-to-define luminescence that makes you feel good and immediately at ease whilst in her aura.
I absolutely believe it's those little nuances that define the content of one's character. And Amber, honestly, has more character and heart pouring out of her than anyone I've ever known. I don't know how to vehemently express just how much you mean to me. I can say with conviction, that I am a better person for knowing you, though. With your sparking copper eyes, your olive-tanned skin and the aforementioned attributes, you truly are a beautiful person both inside and out. You are undeniably an all-weather friend, there for both the good times and bad, through feast and famine; sun or sleet. You've helped me more than you will ever know. Moreover, I just have had so much God-damned fun with you throughout the years. You are so much more than my cousin, more than my friend, you are my sister; my sister-in-arms. I'm so glad you've found that one person you can spend the rest of your life with, that fulfills you, that makes you soul-satisfyingly happy. I'm so honored to be a part of this day and in some small way share in this future memory with you.
And to the groom, a little advice: always check for bones in her pizza, keep on eye out for big, fat, slimy toads in the road and most importantly, take damn good care of her because she really is one-in-a-million. I love ya, Am. I wish you both all the happiness of five lifetimes, because God knows you deserve it. So let's raise a glass to these lovebirds and to the most potent of all elixirs, love itself. May love's fire burn eternal in the attics of your heart and the cellars of your soul. With the being said, let's fiesta. Bottoms up!
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