I remember that evening and later the night like it was yesterday ... The details that I might not be remembering I’ll make up and they might still fit ... I remember the air, the night, the pretend story, the party afterwards, dancing till almost dawn, our youth ...
It was a warm summer evening in Costinești, Romania, on the Black Sea coast - the kind of summer evening where the air sticks to your skin like honey. In our rental house, we finished getting dressed, our skins hurting from too much sun (or at least mine was), and then wandered off onto the streets in search of some entertainment for the night. It was you, me, my sister, your brother, and some other friends ...
Our rental place was a crammed room in a house inland. All the fun stuff was on the beach, about a 20 minute walk or so. This was back in the day when we didn’t mind walking for 20 minutes ...
It was 1996, I believe, or maybe another year later than that?! At any rate, you and my sister were teenagers. I was in college, but an old soul myself - maybe too old for my own good (wasn’t I ever?). I was the college student, older sister who mocked everything you young'uns were up to with an air of superiority (I know, some things never change, eh?).
We eventually reached the beach, with its promenade area, where all the tourists were strolling, eating summer street treats (kebabs, ice-cream, fresh waffles), people-watching and flirting ... Costinești was a young people’s town, so I don’t remember many families with kids or older married people. I remember many dance clubs, most of them outdoors, lots of bars and restaurant patios. It was a teenage and young adult heaven and we, I suppose, fit right in ...
We started walking from the house at dusk, but by the time we made it to the promenade, it was full-blown dark ...
In the midst of the promenade area, somewhere at the edge of the beach, with its back towards the water, there was this two or three-wall shack advertising to be a “Registry office” where lovers, couples, or even people who had just met could “get (mock) married”. The officiant would help you read your vows, they would pronounce you husband and wife and even give you a glass of champagne and a marriage certificate. You were 17. My sister was maybe 18. You both had just started dating that year (if indeed the year was 1996) ...
And you both wanted to “get married”. I was mortified! I was thinking of all sorts of bad omen signs that this might bring. What if you’re tempting fate? What if you’re never going to get (really) married when the time might come in your future? What if something would happen to one of you and at least one of you won’t make it till the “real” time when you should get married, in “real” life? I cannot remember what I said but I do remember that in my mind, I was definitely not on board with this ...
However, one thing I do remember that I thought right away: I knew right then and there that you loved my sister. I knew that if a kid of 17 can sign up, even in jest, even pretense-fully for such a commitment, that if a kid of 17 does not think that marriage might make him un-cool to his friends and little brother ... I knew the only explanation was that this was really, truly love ... And right then and there I knew, you were there in our lives to stay and care for my sister ... And I knew she loved you back. Totally, unconditionally and unreservedly ... And I was grateful for you two finding each other ...
Happy birthday, friend, brother, and father to my only nephews! Thanks for always keeping your commitment to my sister - even from way back when it was just a child’s play to the rest of the world ...
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