mills

Minutes before my sister’s wedding was to begin, my father realized that he’d forgotten his bow-tie and cummerbund in another state; his solution, naturally, was to take mine and leave me at the front of the church looking like some strange Pentecostal opposed to ties.

The photographs we received today document this scene, as he laughingly says something like, “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?” My mother calls his sense of humor, which I share, “Teutonic,” which I think is a euphemism.