Toasts
 
 
                                                  
Ted recently taught me something new about a concept called the "divine proportion" - this is the principle, also known as the Golden Mean, formulated first by the ancient Greeks, that the proportion most aesthetically pleasing to the human eye, the perfect balance between symmetry and asymmetry, is somwhere around 38/62 percent.  It is reputed to appear in ancient Greek temples, Egyptian pyramids, and in Leonardo's paintings and illustrations.
 
Apparently, the d.p. also applies to marriage.  According to polling conducted by Ted's Canadian partners, the happiest couples agree with each other 62% of the time.
 
So I started watching Ted and Sara when we were on vacation together in Italy to see how well-suited they were. So I started taking notes and making some calculations:
- Sara is a wine lawyer;  Ted is an argumentative wine lover.  Score = 7
- Ted likes to cook;  Sara likes to eat.  Score = 9
- Ted likes small bubbles in his mineral water; Sara likes small bubbles too.  Score = 10
- On Malik (their dog):  Ted is bad cop; Sara good cop.  Score = 5
- Ted skis; Sara snowboards.  Score = 1
- Sara hates pears; Ted is learning to hate pears.  Score = 8
 
By my calculations [don't try this at home] that adds up to 62%.  That bodes well, kids.
 
Many of you may know that we come from a family of late bloomers, and Ted was the latest of the late.  But in the last couple of years Ted has exploded into riotous flower, and it has been so much fun for all of us to watch.  The book, the business.  And now he got Sara too, and well, he pretty much scored.
 
I know there were times when Ted felt like the last single guy in the world, but I want to express my gratitude to you Ted, on behalf of the entire family.  I think we can all agree that we are so glad you waited, so we can have such a cool sister- and daughter-in-law.
 
 
 
 
 
Hannah
Hannah Nordhaus, Ted’s sister
A Marriage of Amazement

When you listen closely to stories that people tell of becoming friends to either Sara or to Ted, what you hear are stories of surprise. Not the kind of surprise that has become banal — the surprises of Halloween or Candid Camera or office birthday cakes. Rather what you hear about are the surprises of astonishment.

There you are, recounting to Sara a feeling of dread for something you must do, and suddenly there is a different woman before you: a being who says she can help — that she will help. She is your personal warrior, your confidante, your friend. Thanks to this simple conjuring act, you find yourself thrown back into the world, a shared world, one in which you are powerful enough to overcome what life has put before you.

Many of us have friendship genesis stories like this. Stories of blithely slipping from chit-chat into complaint and then into revelation through Ted’s questions — questions that are interesting because they are so precisely about us — and what could be more amazing than that? But then, before you know it, Ted has uttered a question that cuts like a scalpel through the story you were accustomed to telling about yourself, revealing the nub of your burden. You then have a choice: a) run, b) insist he’s wrong, or c) sit and stare into your private darkness. If you do the latter it is just a matter of time before you find yourself perfectly astonished at what his questioning revealed.

These sacred surprises of friendship mostly occur one-on-one and in private, where wounds can be revealed and fantasies unabashedly expressed. But today, with their marriage, they have given us a gift of awe to share with each other. 

The OED defines “awe” as “the feeling of great respect mixed with fear.” But I don’t think this is right. The two feelings don’t so much mix as they do progress  — or, at least, can progress. When we are shocked, we are upset or afraid. We might stay that way for a long time. As such, it is not yet awe. Awe, it seems to me, is the feeling we are left with after the shock, upset, and fear pass. Awe is a gift for the living; it is a present. And just as awe follows surprise, gratitude follows awe. In this way, their wedding is a gift. 

And it is their gift, done just as they wanted it done, which is most unusual and amazing. They knew what they cared about and what they didn’t. I asked Ted what I should wear. Whatever you want, he said. Don’t you care? Not really, he said. But what will you serve to eat? Ah, that was a different question. That mattered. 

Just nine months ago they didn’t exist to each other; today they affirm they will exist together until they don’t exist at all. Before our very eyes, in just a few words, Sara and Ted transformed themselves into very different beings, into a married couple. And with that transformation they have turned us into new beings, too.

I don’t yet know Sara well, but I have seen the way her friends look at her and speak of her. I have heard of years of correspondence, of girlish hopes and disappointments. I can sense her depth and strength in the ways they act on those she is close to. 

I haven’t yet asked her parents what motivated their naming her Sara. But I know that her name comes from the first book of the Old Testament and that it is used in all of the Abrahamic religions. Sarah was so beautiful, the Talmud explains, that all others seemed like apes in comparison. She was the only woman God spoke to directly; everyone else had to get the Word secondhand through his Angels. The name Sara means “woman of high rank” — and what that meant, the book of Genesis makes quite clear, is that she was of high rank in comparison to her husband, Abraham. And it was a sign of strength that he recognized her as such. 

None of that may surprise you, but consider this: the name Ronald means “counselor to the ruler.” So it all fits together. But what’s remarkable is that our young Ronald dropped his name for the nickname, Ted, of his middle name, Edward, which means the guardian of wealth. His dramatic changing of names was as prophetic as his parents’ intuition that he would become a great counselor.

But I am most struck that Ted was named after an uncle who died young. I remember him chuckling somewhat uneasily on telling us this, as though this fact might explain his personal hauntings. But almost all of the living share names with the dead. Too often we dismiss these reminders of our non-existence as morbid or unimportant — remnants of an earlier age when our identities were inseparable from our genealogy. But these hauntings have, like any sacred surprise, the potential to propel us into a state of enchantment. 

There is so much to appreciate about Sara and Ted, but for me it starts with their capacity to stare into the darkness and to love life not despite it but because of it. They stare at marriage and see not a transcendent institution that has existed from time immemorial but rather a constantly changing way of being that has overcome thousands of ancient prejudices. They sit and stare and conclude that, as marriage enlarges, so will they. They do this because they contain multitudes — they contain life.

“I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world,” writes the poet Mary Oliver in the final stanza of “When Death Comes.” In the poem she imagines herself looking back upon her time on Earth and seeing it as an embrace of life and an awe-inspiring marriage. “When it’s over,” she writes, “I want to say: all of my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.”

So let us drink to this sacred, astonishing marriage!
 
 
 
Michael
Michael Shellenberger, Ted’s best man
Sara and I met at work. Sara is many things, but at work she is an attorney. I am in Sales. You may already start to see the inherent miracle of our friendship. Sara has on several occasions corrected me (and others) who in business have used the term ‘partnership’ in the context of our vendors, clients, or any other entity.  She is very serious about this term both legally and personally - and for good reason. It carries weight, ramifications, and obligation. After it had been pointed out to me that our company was not ‘in partnership’ with another company, no matter what the spirit of the conversation may be,  I started to realize how many people not just in our office, or industry – but in general, used the term lightly. She has never.
 
Sara has a rare combination of sharp intellect, deep awareness and dry humor that is cut with just enough frivolity that allows her to put up with me, I’m sure. I did not mention her drive but that goes without saying – however, all this and more make up a unique spirit and grace that is well, a fortunate blend of which I have felt blessed to call my friend.  It is for this and many reasons that I am so glad to be celebrating this moment with her and Ted.  For me to see Sara so happy and sure fills me with joy.
 
I remember shortly after Sara and Ted had their first phone conversation, she shared with me a story. Ted must have been explaining how he once had a pet fish but she had died. Sara, quick as ever, asked, “How did you know it was a ‘she’”? He replied, “Because I named her.” I remember looking at her and in retrospect it must have been the look of someone who had indeed met her ‘Match’.  It was the beginning of many such stories in which she explained her surprise and delight in discovering this person who so clearly swept her off her feet. I think that story may say a bit about Ted too – but that’s a different toast.
 
It wasn’t long before this time that I remember Sara saying that there were some decisions she had made about what she was looking for in her life and a partner. She put those things out into the world in a bold way, I thought. Shortly thereafter, it was hard not to notice many of those things not just showing up but stood out in Ted. Many of you might be thinking, “Wow, did she really say she wanted a person who cooked liked a demon, and would make it his mission to prepare meals that challenged her.” Well, probably not. But it may also be true that the way to Sara’s heart could possibly be directly through her stomach. And, it may not be a coincidence that she hasn’t left Ted’s kitchen, now theirs – since that first amazing meal was cooked for her.
 
I can only imagine the high standards that Ted must have conveyed to the winds in meeting his match.
 
I would like to make a toast to the joy and the honor in watching two people give importance to a partnership and a decision not made lightly.
 
 
 
 
 
Nancee
Nancee Zannone, Sara’s close friend