The wedding of Peter Valliere and Rebekah Kroetsch

Saturday night in Greely, we celebrated the wedding of my young cousin Peter (my cousin Patti’s eldest) to the very lovely Rebekah Kroetsch. It’s so good to have a family gathering of the extended Page clan (my mother’s family) without a death, or some other misery. This past February we had another gathering, Christine and I heading into Nepean to help celebrate Aunt Shirley’s eightieth birthday. It would be nice to have more. I think the only family gathering for the sake of itself in a few decades was back in 1997, and I couldn’t even be there for such. My six-year-old Kate in my stead, who later gave quite a compelling report on the day.

Aunt Pam (my mother’s remaining sister) officiated the small wedding, at a centre in Greely. After years of her husband Don (a retired minister) officiating family services, this was Pam’s fiftieth, she said, but the first for the family. Peter and Rebekah, both twenty-five, now own a house just underneath Barrhaven, right near where they work. Aunt Pam, who reminded Christine and I at least four or five times that she does weddings. She does weddings, you know. Wink.

Talking to Rebekah’s father, he said the original Bavarian Kroetsch clan (pronounced “Kretch,” as he said they also do) came to Canada through Ellis Island, up to Montreal and into Ontario in the early 1800s. He said they had seven sons, one of whom is their ancestor, and another, led to Bruce County, and then to Alberta, making Robert Kroetsch (with his anglicized pronounciation) a rather distant relative.

The name was unusual enough, I had to ask.

The tables at the reception were game-themed, and we sat at the chess table. Later on, I stole bills from the Monopoly table, other bills from the Life table. Small, coloured-paper scraps. At our particular table, Christine, myself, my sister with her husband Corey, our father and our cousin Kim, aunt of the groom. Instead of clinking glasses at the reception, we were to write out limericks for the new married couple to kiss, something that created a great deal of pressure and expectation at my particular table. There were one or two good ones, but I couldn’t get away without writing my own. Shouldn’t any art come out of a series of unusual challenges?

The wedding of young cousin Peter

Rebekah: good to finally meet her

I wish them the best

Good home and a nest

Enough children to fill up a theatre

I attempted a second, but it wasn’t as strong. I didn’t want to end up ruining a strong opening with a poor closing. Later, at the candy table (yes, I did actually fill the pockets of my suit jacket with candy; so what?) there were costumes as well, with a photographer. Before the photog appeared, I managed a couple of snaps of sister and girlfriend, playing with what hadn’t yet been discovered by too many others.

Good luck to Peter and Rebekah, wishing you many years of conjugal bliss and happy adventures.