Lesson 8: There's No Place Like Home, Part 2

For the past two weekends, I have had extended trips to far-off places. During these trips I've had lots of events, adventures, and memories. I've also done a bit of thinking about where "home" is and where I am in relation to the places with which I am familiar. This is Part 2, chronicling my weekend visiting PA for my brother's wedding.  If you missed Part 1, scroll down (or if this is the only post on the page, click the title "Mr. Stoddard's Neighborhood" at the top, then scroll down)

So in the midst of many busy weeks have been many epic weekends.  On Friday a week and a half ago I got on a plane here in Tegucigalpa, bound for the distant land of Pennsylvania.  With layovers, the time difference, and delayed landings, I didn't make it to the house until 2:30am, at which time I promptly ate a chicken sandwich with Sweet Baby Ray's (remember that detail for later, it's important).

The next day was full of wedding festivities! I was the best man, so I had the distinct privilege of only having three things to worry about: the Man Party, holding the rings at the ceremony, and making a speech at the reception.  Spoiler Alert: everything went smoothly, and my three duties were completed successfully!  It was a whirlwind of a weekend, which was good because if I had slowed down I probably would have crashed.

That's where the magic happens and by magic
I mean the friendship that will one day
blossom into best-manship

That's Man Food!

We had a ceremony rehearsal at 8am on Saturday (that's right, after I had gotten in at 2:30...) then we had some time to get ready for the rehearsal lunch.  Now, family gatherings when Stoddards are involved are not mere get-togethers. No, a Stoddard fest always includes creativity and music and zany but brilliant performances of all kinds. So by "get ready" for lunch I really meant running through a song that Uncle Paul and my Dad had cooked up based on the Coast Guard anthem (my brother's in the Coast Guard, did you catch that part??) So that involved some wacky lyrics, my dad playing the cornet, me on keyboard, and Uncle Paul playing his synthesizer wind instrument thing (it's basically an electronic clarinet - don't ask).  Oh, and lots of goofy hats - those are a must.  We performed at the restaurant where we had the lunch. It went well, and everyone seemed to enjoy it! Most of the family members also made short speeches about my brother Tim and his fiance-now-wife Danielle.  It was really great to hear everyone's stories and the different pieces of the couple's lives that they had shared.
That evening we hosted the Man Party, which included lots of men, lots of food and lots of tools.  All sorts of guys of all ages from various corners of Tim's life showed up to congratulate him and give him some manly tools that will be useful in his role as Super-Husband Mr. Fix-It.  We also played Name That Obscure Tool, which was exciting and rather educational... and manly! After a friendly whomping of my cousins at Texas Hold 'em, it was time for sleepage!
We helped set things up at the venue the next day, but we were most helpful if we just stayed out of the way. Like I said, I only had to worry about three things, and one was done at that point.

Groomsmen. Mustaches. It just feels right.

Before the ceremony, we had some manly pictures taken with the groomsmen, and what better time to get out the Stash o' Staches, my fake (but very realistic-looking) mustache collection.  Epic, excellent, and endlessly entertaining, as wedding pictures should be.
The ceremony was held at the Conewago Manor Inn, an estate with a big lawn with the primary purpose of hosting weddings. There was a sweet room for the groomsmen to get ready in, and it included all the essentials: pizza, soda, and Indiana Jones on tv... oh, and a mirror for making faces, or maybe fixing our hair or something insignificant like that - who needs it?
The ceremony went splendidly, starting with some fine ushering by the groomsmen and myself, continuing with the walk down the aisle, the smiles, the vows, the Bible verses, the sermon (in Spanish - I tried to comprendo as much as I could, but it wasn't Honduran Spanish... yeah, that's my excuse...), the vows, the ring hand-off (successful delivery! Whoo!), the smooches, more smiling, more pictures, and then it was time for food and greeting everybody.  It was great to see people from all different parts of Tim's life all gathered together to support him and congratulate him.  There, that was most of my speech.  The other part was about how Tim and I didn't used to get along, but within the last few years we've bonded over food, movies, bodily noises, and 80's rock music, and now we're great friends and it was an honor to be his Best Man. Way to go, Broski, glad I could be there for ya! Oh, and the speech ended with me playing keyboard for a rendition of Don't Stop Believin featuring new lyrics about Tim and Danielle, with vocals by the siblings of the bride and groom! It was a blast!

Thad and his mullet make an appearance

The reception was lots of fun, with great food and lots of people and music and dancing (which was fun despite the distinct lack of classic rock).  I may or may not have (meaning I did) make an appearance as my alter ego, the mullet-haired 80's rocker Thad - he's always a good time! After a fantastic ceremony and an energetic reception, the only things left to do were to plaster Danielle's car with obnoxious amounts of window paint and colored streamers, and call it a night.

Before I knew it I was back on the plane headed to Tegucigalpa.  I got to do some more thinking about where exactly "home" is and whether I was leaving it or returning to it. My answer: both. As I mentioned in my previous post, the definition of home changes based on where we are. Sometimes it's about where we are comfortable: where we know what's going on, where we can expect things to be a certain way.  But I think it's mostly about where the important people are.  My parents responded to last week's blog post by saying that I'll always have a home wherever they are. Thanks, Mom and Dad - it's not just a nice parental thing to say, it's true! It's not so much about declaring a place as "home" or "away", it's about where we feel safe and included.

The Dad. The Mom. They are awesome

I didn't even spend much time at my actual house when I was home, but the whole time I was surrounded by people who matter to me.  It's also the little things that matter, like opening the refrigerator and knowing I'll find a bottle of Sweet Baby Ray's barbecue sauce (see, I told you it would come back!) or getting to drive my car (that's right, Amy - whose car is it??). Knowing that the people who are important will always be there is what makes a place a home. BAM! How's that for a thesis statement?? Sometimes I get to these little nuggets of poignancy, so let's cherish that moment together. I'm glad you were here to experience my nugget, friends - you matter!

A man, his wife, and a whole lot of flowers

A man, his wife, and his grandparents

Don't forget to check out my Picasa web albums for a bunch more pictures of the wedding and everything else from my adventures in Honduras!  Thanks for reading!