Something borrowed, something blue, something old, and something new. On September 19th, 1975, my aunt and uncle, Debbie and Doug Nelson got married. I was only 3 years old, so I don’t remember the event, but due to the miracle of photography, I’ve seen the day various times throughout the years while flipping through our stacks of family photo albums.

A few years back, I was out at Doug and Deb’s farm, talk turned to weddings and such, and I told Doug I always loved the suit he was wearing in their wedding picture. Pastel blue jacket, baby blue shirt with a wide swath of ruffles running from collar to crotch, and a bowtie that would dwarf a 1970s Caprice Classic hood ornament. A glorious ensemble.

A week or so after my visit I received a package in the mail…the suit. Doug’s mom had kept it all these years, and it was just as dapper as I remembered. The pants had run off and got lost some time between the 1970s and the 2020s, pants will do that, but the rest, complete with cufflinks and bowtie in their original boxes, were all there.

The mailman wasn’t halfway down our driveway before I was standing there in the suit with a smile as big as the bowtie. A perfect fit. So it goes.

My sister Amanda and Reid Arnold got hitched on August 9th, 2025, and I thought this old borrowed blue suit would be a fitting symbol of enduring love for this new union. So, after the wedding ceremony, and a few hours into the reception, I retreated to our hotel room to slip on a bit of the past in celebration of Mr. and Mrs. Arnold’s future.

Something I hadn’t anticipated was that the presence of the suit also served to dust off fond memories that led to enjoyable conversations with Doug and Deb and many that stood by them that day back in 1975.

I know I will carry fond memories of August 9th, 2025, with me for as long as I am able to have memories. One often doesn’t know when something is going to hit them in the feelers, and when I saw my sister walking towards the altar flanked by our parents my feelers took a hit. Thankfully the waterproof mascara held up.

A few months back my sister asked if I would be willing to write a little something to say at their wedding. Writing something to say was easy, saying that something was not. My sister is one of those people that maintains their ability to speak while their tears and emotions run amok. I am envious of those people. Emotions and tears run roughshod over me, transforming me into a blubbering mime. I hate mimes.

The first time I saw my sister and Reid together was at The 109 Club in Lignite a few years back. As the hour got late, my sister leaned her head on Reids shoulder, and I saw a look of complete serenity wash over her face. It was then that I knew that something borrowed, something blue, something old, and something new was surely to be.

All the best to you, Mr. and Mrs. Arnold, and welcome to the family Reid.