Benny Jay: LaSharon’s Wedding

August 13th, 2009

A long, long time ago, when my oldest daughter was nine, she switched schools and found herself walking into an unfamiliar classroom, filled with fourth graders, who’d known each other since kindergarten.

In other words, everyone knew everyone else, and she didn’t know a soul. You get the idea.

The teacher — an old-school type named Miss White — had them sitting alphabetically. Scared out of her mind, my daughter turned to the girl sitting behind her and asked: “Will you be my friend?”

That girl was LaSharon Jones.

Now LaSharon could play this one of two ways: Nasty or nice.

She went with nice.

“Yes,” she said with a smile, “I’ll be your friend.”

And just like that my daughter wasn’t so scared anymore.

I love that story for all the obvious reasons. I must have told it a zillion times. For her part, LaSharon’s probably heard me tell it, oh, at least one hundred times. She was always way too polite to roll her eyes, but inside she had to be thinking — oh, no, not again!

Anyway, one thing leads to another, and here I am — many, many years later — sitting in a church, watching LaSharon’s father lead her down the aisle.

Mr. Jones is a big, strong, quiet guy — if he says two words, that’s a lot. He’s a deacon in this church, so they call him Deacon Jones, like the football player from way back.

As he and LaSharon come down the aisle, one of the parishioners, Clifton Barnes, is singing “You Are So Beautiful.” I swear to God it’s the best rendition I’ve ever heard — the man has an amazingly soulful voice. Gives me chills.

They stand before the preacher, Reverend Edward Whitehead, who happens to be the father of the groom, Stephen Whitehead. The reverend talks about how this is one of the most profound moments in the life of a father and his daughter — when the father must turn his baby over to another man.

There’s a pause.

Deacon Jones is showing no signs of turning his baby over to anyone.

“You can return to your seat now, Deacon Jones,” says Reverend Whitehead.

Everyone laughs and, just like that, Deacon Jones goes to his seat and LaSharon joins her groom.

With that the official ceremony begins. Reverend Whitehead tells LaSharon and Stephen that marriage is serious stuff — “not stacking and shacking, but one flesh.” He reminds them that they will face temptation in their lives, “but the good side of you can surpass the human side of you.”

He goes on and on, like preachers tend to do, and then he apologizes for going on on. After all, you must understand — this is the wedding of his son.

They exchange vows they wrote themselves. LaSharon says something like, I just got something I want to say — and then, backed by the chorus, she breaks into “Love and Happiness.”

Throughout the church people clap, laugh and sing along cause, as anyone will tell you, it’s only the greatest Al Green song — ever!

And just like that, they’re married, and we’re walking through a reception line to offer congratulations. I’m gearing up to tell that story about the first day of fourth grade.

But as I approach LaSharon and Stephen I think — ah, give the girl a break. You can’t go back in time. Can’t live in the past. Like Reverend Whitehead told Deacon Jones — sooner or later you got to let go.