A Toast to End All Toasts

Dear Boo and Bubble,

I just returned to Sugar Mountain from Greenville where I met with some of my high school classmates to plan our 50th year reunion for the spring of 2016.  It was hard to believe that it has been that many years since graduation.  I had a wonderful time reconnecting with them, many of whom I had not seen in the last half-century (shudder!).

The day’s agenda took us to the Poinsett Club on East Washington Street, the place we have chosen as the venue for our reunion.  While waiting in one of the sitting rooms for the group to fully assemble, I happened to look across the hall and down some steps into a dining room all set up for some festive occasion based upon a Paris theme.  There were several metal facsimiles of the Eiffel Tower strategically placed in the corners and beautifully adorned with ivy and flowers.  The centerpieces on each table featured clusters of roses and Gerbera daisies at the base of smaller versions of the Tower.  Tentacles of ivy reached out in all directions. 

It was a lovely sight …… and brought back a very happy memory.

Over 40 years ago, on the night before Captain and I were to be married, Great Granddaddy Cot and Mamaw Kat hosted our rehearsal dinner in that very place.  It was a marvelous celebration with both of our families and many of our closest friends.  The next day, we would become Mr. and Mrs. Tally and, for many a time over the course of the evening, we raised our glasses to toasts from all of the well-wishers.

There was one toast, however, that will always be remembered as iconic, legendary and immortal.  It was made by your great Granddaddy Schaefer.

Three months before, he had suffered a very severe heart attack - so much so that his doctor kept him in the hospital for an extended time and, upon releasing him, ordered bed rest and very restricted activity.  He did as he was told, not only because he was weak but also because he wanted to build up his strength so that he could walk me down the aisle to give my hand in marriage to Captain.  This meant that he had to forgo all of the parties and festivities leading up to our wedding. 

The night of the rehearsal party, he shed his pajamas and bathrobe and dressed in his blue pinstrip suit.  He accented it with a jaunty bowtie.  When he made his appearance at the Poinsett Club, all of the dinner guests broke out into applause. 

Each clink of the glass signaled a toast and, one by one, bridesmaids and groomsmen offered humorous recollections of both Captain and me.  Relatives and friends raised their glasses in hopes for a long life together, filled with good luck and prosperity.  Finally, it seemed all had spoken when Granddaddy stood and tapped his knife to his water glass. 

A hush fell over the group.  He was a man of great wisdom and wit …… and he loved his daughter more than just about anybody or anything.  Whatever he was about to say must be heard.

“Here’s to Beth and John,” he started, lifting his glass skyward. Then, he paused for effect. “May all of their Tallys have ‘whackers’-  save one.  And may she be just like my Bethie.”

Needless to say, everybody erupted in laughter and hearty “Here…..heres.”

Apparently, though, Granddaddy’s toast didn’t take.  We had two beautiful daughters – your mom and Aunt Bee.

I guess maybe it might have skipped a generation, though, because now you two boys have come along.  And, I'm sure Granddaddy Schaefer couldn’t be any happier that his wish finally came to fruition!