Oct 10, 2008 - 04:05:23 CDT
It seems the older you get, the more hats you have to wear.No, I'm not talking about male pattern baldness, though Ido notice my forehead gets larger by the day. I'm talking about the hats we wear in the roles we play within our families.
Let's take a look at my own life for a second. For decades, I've played fairly simple roles. Iwas a son to two. Iwas a grandchild to four. Iwas a brother for two. And that was it, unless you're counting the nephew hat or the cousin hat, which are tiny hats, really. More like a visor or a beanie.
Lately, though, the hats just keep coming. Ibecame a brother-in-law a couple of years ago after my brother Erik got married. Sometime next year, he and his wife, Jessy, will hand me yet another cap to wear, as they welcome their first child, and I'll be wearing the uncle hat, which probably looks something like a gray fedora.
The point of this all is that Ididn't wear a hat this past weekend to the wedding of my sister, Erin. That would have been rude.
And I would never think of ruining this day that belonged to my sister, who while looking absolutely radiant in her white wedding gown, was trying on a new hat of her own, as a bride. This is probably one of the bigger hats any of us will ever wear. Sort of like a sombrero.
No, she wasn't literally wearing a sombrero. That'd be weird.
Some claim to have seen a tear roll down my cheek as my dad walked Erin down the aisle, guiding her toward the waiting arms of her betrothed, Dave. But none of these people thought to take any photographic evidence of me actually crying, so as far as you or I or anyone will ever know, these people are most likely liars.
I was doing a lot of thinking in that moment, though, which is why it may have possibly looked like Iwas tearing up, since thinking makes my face remorseful.
Iwas thinking about the brother hat I've worn all my life, growing up alongside both of my siblings. The pictures my mom took of us three by the Christmas tree each year. The screaming fights over who got to watch what on television. The cramped back seat of our parents' Pontiac Sunbird. The time I hit her in the head with a rock. The time Ipaid her $1.50 not to beat me up.
But now we're all grown up, and I'm watching her walk those last steps toward being a married woman, not wearing a sombrero.
So Isat in that hall, allegedly crying, next to the members of my family and all their new hats:my brother, who will soon be a dad; my sister-in-law, who will be a mother; my mom, who will be a grandmother; my Grandpa Marty, who will wear the great-grandfather hat (now, that's a nice hat); and my girlfriend, Annette, who should be wearing a bridal sombrero soon, according to the needling Iheard all week from my family.
We were all there, together, in that smallest of moments, changing as people, changing as a family, changing in the roles we play in each other's lives. It's all very new and very exciting.
And, seriously, what's more exciting than getting a new hat?
(Reach Kelly Hagen, a man who also wears the columnist cap, at 250-8259 or kelly.hagen@bismarcktribune.com.)
Nate wrote on Oct 10, 2008 11:32 AM:
Jamie Wilke wrote on Oct 10, 2008 10:03 AM:
Comments are reviewed for taste, tone and language before posting.
Some comments may be used in the Tribune's print edition.