More Than an Officiant

I wedding is about the couple, not the guestlist

As a wedding officiant, I’ve seen hundreds of ceremonies. I’ve witnessed grand affairs and intimate elopements. But one groom, standing nearly alone on his wedding day, taught me more about the meaning of marriage than all the others combined. His story is a powerful reminder of what a wedding day is truly about.

When my partner, Gussy, and I first stepped into the world of wedding officiating, we found something majickal and more everlasting than a mere "job." Guided by the founder of Celebrations Wedding Chapel, Christine Tanier, we established our own service, The Moment Counts. That venture has since evolved, and we are now honored to play a direct role in the magic here at Celebrations Wedding Chapel, where we have been part of countless wedding stories. While all are memorable, one young couple’s story stands out—a story of a US Marine, his devoted fiancée, and a wedding day that almost wasn’t.

Gussy was serving as officiant, and in true Gussy fashion, she became their friend while creating their ceremony. Sharing a meal at a local restaurant, we learned their love story. He was a newly retired United States Marine, fresh from serving our nation in combat. She was a daycare provider for children who carry labels identifying them as something other than “normal.” They had met before basic training, and it was she who had consoled him through his darkest moments, a loving voice from home while he reflected on the horrors of war. In time, love took hold, and a proposal was affirmed. A proposal shunned by his family.

When Gussy and I arrived at the wedding venue in Jackson, Michigan—a venue of renown—we were surprised by how few cars were in the parking lot. The guest list was over 300, yet only a handful of vehicles were there.

Inside, the grand ballroom was set for a wedding fitting the location, yet only half the seating was taken. The bride's side of the room was filled to capacity but was as silent as the groom's side—an entire section of empty seats, all but for one.

All the tables set for the reception were empty, except for one man sitting alone, shadowed in the back corner of the room. Without the groom knowing, his entire family had boycotted the wedding. His parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins were all missing from what should have been his happiest day. Even his best man, his own brother, had turned his back.

His disappointment was hidden behind a mask of sadness he could not hide. Feeling his hurt, I stepped up to him as he looked out the window, feigning interest in the golfers on the fairway. I put my hand on his shoulder and told him that though I could not truly feel what he must be going through, I would be honored to stand in as his best man.

And with that, his shoulders squared, his eyes sharpened, and with a shaky voice, he said words I will never forget:

“I’m walking into my future. The best parts of my past are going with me. All the rest will remain in the past.”

Looking back, I feel honored to have stood as his best man that day. I may have been a stranger, but for a few moments, we were a reflection of what this world needs. When the chips are down, when your support drops away, don’t be afraid to hurt. But don’t let that hurt derail your future. Sometimes, all it takes is a stranger to remind you that marriage isn't about the venue or the playlist. We forget the menu and vaguely recall the details. What is remembered is that two souls united in a commitment to honor their love and their story, regardless of the hurdles. They trusted themselves more than they trusted the guest list.

What this story truly teaches is this: Your guest list is yours. Don’t build it on the expectation that more people mean more support. In the end, many guests may become strangers, but a moment of true kindness can become a lifelong reminder that not everybody has to approve of who you love for your love to be whole.

I don't know what has become of this couple, but with the grace, grit, and resilience they approached that day, if all but one of our couples divorced, it would not be this one.