June is a month of weddings, I will admit I’m not sure why southerners ever get married in the summer, but y’all do and I’ll raise a glass to it. This weekend there are two weddings for people that I care about; one local for a friend of ours, and the other in another time zone for family.

What stands out to me right now, is that both of them have empty chairs. For different reasons, but chairs that will be empty none the less.

When I got married the first time, it was on my great-grandmother’s birthday. She garnered a round of applause at the start of the ceremony and she princess-waved as she was rolled out in her wheelchair by my brother-in-law. They were all there, so many that are gone now through death and distance – but they were all there that day.

The lives of our friends has been a horrifying game of emotional Plinko over the last couple of years but I can only think of one other couple I have ever known that was so clearly *bound* to each other. The connection between them is practically visible, and what I want for them years of reward for the steadfast courage and relentless continuing that have found in each other.

For my family member who is getting married, my heart just cracks because of the circumstance that arose for her first empty chair, and then again for the second one. There will be other days, and other visits, but *this day* only happens once. I wish for her and her soon-to-be husband such lovely things, and years filled with laughter. I wish that Saturday was going to be just a little different.

Ultimately I found myself thinking of Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Miz, and it is a bit heavy handed (because I do not think anyone was of a failed revolution … but I suppose I could be wrong) but I also know that emotions run high on wedding weekends, so if anybody needs a trigger to cry this is a perfect rendition.