Dale Larabee | La verdad de Larabee

In 2012, Politifact.com estimated that the lifelong possibility of a marriage ending in divorce is between 40 and 50 percent.

I performed my first wedding in Cambridge, Massachusetts ten days after 9/11. We flew into Logan Airport; ours was the quietest flight I have ever taken, a somber crew and silent passengers furtively glancing at those around. If we pulled the slightest dumb move, we would have been duct-taped to our seat like that inebriated passenger on his way to St. Louis. If we hit a patch of rough air that day, everyone froze. Logan Airport was a ghost town. A year earlier, my nephew and niece chose me to officiate at their wedding. I was honored but scared. I didn’t know what I was doing. I received a commission from former Gov. Jane Swift of Massachusetts authorizing me to perform one wedding on one day and that was it. I couldn’t set up shop in a mall. I was asked to do part of the ceremony in Italian since some of my niece’s family spoke little English. I pulled it off; I was hooked. The wedding energy was so positive. Guests hugged and laughed. My niece and nephew glowed and I was part of the show. I had a seat in the “front row.”

During the past 12 years, I have performed 52 ceremonies. I was asked by my neighbor’s daughter, then by my friend for his second marriage. I officiated for a grandfather, then his son and finally his grandson. For years, I kept track of “my” couples and sent them Happy Anniversary cards, at least until they began to move out of town and have children. Yet, at last count, 51 of my 52 were still married. My one loss was due to drugs. The bride said to her husband, “If you go back on drugs, I am gone.” She was dead serious and, well, he traveled and six months later: divorce.

I was ordained at my computer. At the Universal Life Church, for $14.95, I completed my study and graduation in less than five minutes. For $5 more I would have been mailed a “Minister’s parking” placard for my dashboard; I couldn’t do that. I am not really a minister. Out-of-town guests — not used to the ways of California — have asked me where I attended Divinity School, or where my church was located. I can tell they don’t like my answer. For instance, I was not permitted to perform a ceremony in Las Vegas since I did not have a congregation. I was not welcome in one church’s sanctuary.

I have performed weddings in two actual churches, once wearing a robe and colorful stole. The regular minister assisted, but I was able to help with communion. The minister opened and closed with prayers and was very Christian about the whole thing. Unfortunately, I have not been asked to officiate at a same-sex marriage, but I have at a mixed-race, a 50-year re-do, a double re-do of a couple’s 47th anniversary and their daughter’s 20th. Here are some highlights:

— I forgot to say “Amen” after the opening prayer and talked on, confused by the guests staring at their shoes.

— I blanked on the groom’s name when I was to introduce “Mr. and Mrs. ???” I looked at the groom and he looked at me and I said, “Why don’t you be the first to introduce your bride.” Whew.

— I performed an English/Spanish wedding two weeks ago, practiced and practiced my Spanish, but choked during the ceremony. The guests gave me a standing ovation for trying.

— The groom forgot his sons’ dressed shirts, delaying the ceremony for an hour while he ran home to retrieve them. The couple opened the bar for the guests, resulting in a wonderful, audience-participating wedding. The guests and couple repeated after me and we all pronounced the couple “husband and wife.”

I was a divorce lawyer early in my legal career. After five years of helping people end their marriages, I did not see one couple end emotionally better off than they were before we lawyers took over. Many divorces ended with everyone mad at each other, including the judge. I was told divorce lawyers have higher suicide rates than any other profession except psychiatrists and dentists. Now, I stand at weddings and I see my couples look longingly at each other and say, “I love you.” Their eyes and expressions show they deeply mean the words. The entire wedding day is positive. If those feelings could be bottled so the couple could sip the elixir when husband or wife is thoughtless, insulting, rude, cheats or is cruel as happens, then divorce lawyers would have much less work.

I can’t change the world, but if I am asked to serve at a wedding, I will. If you ever get the chance, don’t forget to say “Amen.”