Watching the generations change in real time.

What is it about weddings?

The bride and me, at another wedding long, long ago.

If you are very lucky, you have a friend like my friend Wendy in your life.

We met as “senior highs” in her church youth group. I was dating a guy who was also in the group and came with him every Sunday night. We sang, danced, ate, laughed, talked about God and pretty much everything else. It was a wonderful time.

That guy is long in the past, but Wendy and I are still sister-close after nearly 50 years. (OMG, 50 years. FIFTY. I hadn’t done that math before. At least not since the number got so big.) We were best friends almost from the start and have stayed close through college, first jobs, various romances, and moves to New York (both of us), Nicaragua (her), Copenhagen (me) and beyond.

I got married first, but she was the first to want to have a baby. Though I lived far away, we talked on the phone all the time, and the pain when she and Kevin couldn’t get pregnant was a dark cloud over all of us. Multiple rounds of unsuccessful IVF treatments made it feel like their fondest wish would never come true.

Then it happened: She was going to have not one but THREE babies. Yes, triplets, a concept that, even 28 years later, still blows my mind a little. I was over-the-moon excited to meet Lydia, Joanna and Abigail, and our mutual admiration society has continued to this day. The Girls are cousins to my only child and feel like part of my family.

And this weekend, Joanna is getting married. Just writing that sentence makes me a little teary.

I’m not exactly sure what’s making me so sentimental about Joey’s wedding day. My actual sister’s beautiful daughter, Janet (named for my mother who died long before she was born), got married two years ago outdoors on a chilly, lovely day … and just had a baby! (Okay, I might have shed some tears about that, too.) Beloved friends’ children have included us in their wedding celebrations.

But this feels different, somehow. It feels like I’m moving into a new era, watching the generations change in real time.

Maybe it’s because Joey’s dad — Wendy’s husband and soul mate, Kevin — died suddenly in 2022, a shock that might never go away. His absence from every conversation about Wendy’s life now, including the myriad details of wedding planning, is palpable. He’d be cracking jokes and opining on music and so proud of the bride and her amazing mother and sisters. I ache for the hole in all their lives.

But I also think this has to do with me — my “age and stage,” as the many blogs and stories I read about midlife, later life and aging call it.

So much is different about the world that Joanna and Harris will face together than it was for Andy and me. And let’s face it: Building a strong marriage is hard on a good day. It’s also wonderful and sustaining and solid (and fun!), but the early years can be especially difficult, as you learn to negotiate the problems and opportunities of life together, giving and taking and making (sometimes huge) mistakes. How will they come through it?

Mostly, though, I now realize, almost daily, that we are guaranteed nothing. Every day is a gift. To be able to witness the wedding of Wendy and Kevin’s beloved child with my own husband and beloved child and this family I’ve known since I was younger than the bride … wow. I feel so much gratitude.

With Wendy on yet another adventure, this time in Madrid.

The best part?

Once again, Wendy and I will sing, dance, eat, laugh and have a wonderful time. And God will be there, too.

Just like when we were kids.