A few weeks ago, my wife Lois and I attended the wedding of our friend Mary's daughter. As we drove to Denver, Lois updated me about Mary's brother Joey. Joey, with Down syndrome, had lived with his mother all forty-one years of his life. Recently, the mother of and Joey and Mary turned ill; mom and Joey had to move in with Mary and her husband.
When Joey heard that his niece Rachel was to be married, he insisted that he be the best man. Although Rachel told him she had other plans, Joey would hear nothing of it.
When we arrived at the church we were seated. The procession started; it was lead by the priest and Joey. On the program, Joey was listed in the wedding party with a fancy name for alter boy. In his tuxedo, he stood beaming in front of all the wedding guests. After the Rachel and the groom were married, Joey followed the wedding party down the aisle with the priest. As we left the church, Joey was in the receiving line.
At the reception, Mary told me that Joey was to give a toast. He had been practicing in front of her for many days. The toasts began. First the wedding party principals and then the father of the bride. Next it was Joey's turn.
Joey went a bit off script; his words were hard to understand--but not his conclusion-- that he loved them both very much. I teared up.
After the dancing began, Joey was active in dancing to "Y.M.C.A., the "Chicken Dance," and "We are Family." Then guys could dance with the bride for a buck or more. Joey was standing in line with money his brother-in-law had given him.
Joey didn't stick out; he just was having fun like everyone else. Impressive, was the support and acceptance that all Joey's family gave him.
When Lois and I left, the party was slowing down, but Joey was still having a great time.
Mary told Lois later that Joey crowed all week about what a great job he did.
Maybe didn't understand that he wasn't the real best man, but there was no doubt that he was the "best man."
