These were my first thoughts as I stepped out of the oppressive heat of a Boston summer day into the infamous Sail Loft, a creaky ramshackle dive protruding into the waters of Boston Harbor. Cousin Pete had circled back into town for another visit, and had brought his new girlfriend Megan Williams along for the frivolity sure to ensue. While I didn't know at the time that this cute little brunette was to become Pete's wife, it was hard to miss how instantly smitten he was with her.
Soon after moving back to the Twin Cities, I started to spend more and more time with the two of them, and my life has been immeasurably better for it. Megan instantly became a fixture at Mulheran family functions, and it felt like she was destined to be there all along, while Pete became a fixture on my speed dial (do people still have speed dial? I'm sticking with it, you get the point).
One of the first times I felt I had truly come home was that first Christmas back in Minnesota, when I found myself at McCoy's Bar and Grill with Pete and Megan, as well as a few other assorted family members and friends. Surely an innocuous event from their perspective, we all piled into my car with no discussion, invitation, or pretense after dinner with the family. That tacit sense of belonging, and the welcoming nature they have always shown me throughout their relationship has made me incredibly lucky and proud to call Megan and Pete both friends and family. (Side note: this was also when Megan discovered that I owned music by Nelly on my iPod, and has excitedly requested I play it every single time she has been in my car since...)
As we celebrated their marriage this past Saturday, I could only fathom the feelings they were experiencing, as this outpouring of love from almost 300 revelers left broad smiles permanently etched on each of their faces throughout the afternoon and into the cool, gray evening. Megan and Pete, I am ecstatic the two of you have found each other, and want to thank you for being such great friends.
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