FINALLY A TOUCH OF HEAVEN
Gabby went to the Izaak Walton League Rifle Range in Seneca, Maryland to share her happiness with Joel Fox. It was 7:30 a.m. on a May morning. A brisk mountain wind blew through the flowering dogwoods. Blossoming white and cardinal red azalea punctuated the green landscape with dashing color. No cars were in the parking lot and, at this early hour, the range stood deserted. She sat beside Joel's monument, occasionally stroking its granite surface and talking about dreams she and Kye had come to share. "You made this happen for me, Joel," she whispered. "Without you, I wouldn't be here. Thank you, my dearest friend."
When the time came to leave, she planted both hands on the monument to his memory and recited "she-he-che-ya-nu ve-ki-man-nu, ve-hi-gi-a-nu, la-ze-man ha-zeh, Blessed is the Lord who has sustained us until this happy time." At that moment, a most extraordinary event occurred. Unbeknownst to her, a rifleman must have been sighting his high-powered deer rifle on the long sighting range. A single shot shattered the silence and seemed to echo in the confinement of the trees. She expected to hear a follow-up shot, but there was none. In years past, the crack of a rifle would have frightened her. Today, her reactions were different. Nothing could disturb the internal fullness she felt. This gunshot portent no danger. Just the opposite. She interpreted it as an omen from the grave, a signal of Joel's approval of her marriage to Kye Oliver Naah.
On her wedding day, Gabby traded her black rabbinical gown and multicolored yarmulke used in hundreds of weddings, for a sleeveless silk-duchess-satin gown with a scoop-neck bodice, cut very low in the back. Years of careful attention to her body filled it with nubile beauty. Her dark hair, longer than she usually wore it, was pulled back behind the ears, with a flowing white veil held in place by a thin golden tiara. On the very pulpit from which she has spoken for so many years, officiated at hundreds of weddings, funerals, bar and bat mitzvoth, she abandoned all signs of her rabbinic persona to be, what she had always longed to become, a simple bride.
The wedding of Gabrielle Lewyn and Kye Oliver Naah occurred on Sunday morning, June first before multitudes of family and friends, predominately Korean and Jewish, but certainly not exclusively. Of Gabby's friends, several you would recognize. Her original rabbinical mentor and close friend, Rabbi Dr. Seth Greer, flew from Israel to officiate at the ceremony, as he had pledged when, years before, he had fled Washington in disgrace. During the intervening years, the indiscretions that resulted in his resignation as Senior Rabbi of Ohav Shalom had lapsed into historical memory. Even the old families who were deeply offended at the time were now willing to forgive. Time has a way of eroding outrage. An old member of the synagogue who had witnessed the unfortunate episode with Seth Greer's womanizing and inevitable resignation wisely quipped to all who would listen, "It's always better to forgive before you forget."
The erstwhile Rabbi Dr. Greer, now a celebrity political satirist and radio-television raconteur, no longer conveyed the persona of rabbi. But for Gabby's wedding, he dusted off his old clerical robe, tallit and yarmulke. "This," he said in the brief service, "is the summit of my rabbinical career. How long I've waited for this moment."
Many who attended the ceremony had never actually met, though they knew of each other through Gabby's elaborate descriptions.
Dr. Samual Lewyn from Los Angeles gave his daughter away, though bad knees obliged him to totter down the aisle beside her with the aid of a thick cane. Her sister, brother-in-law, and their three children arrived from Cleveland, laden with good wishes and much unsolicited advice about marriage. Zoe Mountolive, the New York attorney who defended Noah Zentner at his trial, came, escorted by a wealthy investment banker, sixteen years her senior, and her 17-year-old daughter, Clementine, thin and stunning, with double earrings in pierced ears and a tattoo on her bared shoulder. Noah and Morgan Zentner, now the parents of two sons, were ebullient with wishes for Gabby's happiness. By now tension between Noah and Gabby had long since lapsed and they could look fondly at each other not as jilted ex-lovers, but old friends who had shared a traumatic experience. Though stooped and in constant pain from acute arthritis, Ephraim Rothman spoke eloquently about Gabby, as though he represented the custodial memory at Ohav Shalom. Rabbi Dov Shellenberg, now Lieutenant Governor of Indiana, arrived from Indianapolis and immediately began hobnobbing with members of the congregation who remembered him as Gabby's junior associate. Lydia Browner, Gabby's tennis coach and sometimes doubles partner, whose physical beauty Gabby believed could still launch a thousand ships, brought her steady companion, Daisy Seasongood. Her brother, Chuck, had promise to attend with his significant other, Lawrence Bourne. At the last moment, the two had quarreled about something and he came alone.
On Kye's side of the aisle, half of Washington's Korean American community was present, including many from the Korean Baptist Church of Bethesda. Friends and associates in the high tech industry came, whether or not they had received invitations. Most gratifying to Kye was a generous gift received from his ex-creditors, all of whom he repaid with proceeds from the sale of Politicstoday assets. They were so thrilled at getting their original investment back that they chipped in to pay for a week's honeymoon at the Four Seasons Hotel on the Caribbean Island of Nevis. Kye's associates insisted on putting the ceremony on the Internet to share with their friends abroad. Their Facebook entry was titled: "The Giant and the Rabbi.com"
As a tribute to Gabby, Asa Folkman wrote a peppy ballad, which he played on the piano as Reuben Blass sang. Family and friends applauded so strongly that he and Reuben agree to an encore – a short number they had worked up for another performance.
During toasts, Kye beamed with happiness, toasting two treasures – his new wife and Judaism. He was witty and yet humble. Though brides often remain silent, Gabby's friends demanded that she say a few words. It proved difficult for her to move around in the long silk gown, so she stood behind the wedding table to toast her family and friends.
The woman who used words so fluently was tongue-twisted. Her eyes were weepy and her voice cracked. She could do no more than raise her champagne glass in a trembling hand. "To those I love… and who, during the long dark and dreary hours, have given me life and sustained me. To my husband, Kye, whom I adore, L'chayyim!"
Chuck Browner jumped up from the head table to add a final observation. "No, No, No," he was gasping on the way to his feet. But the mood had already shifted. The joy felt by Gabby's family and friends erupted into spontaneous cheers. The celebrants were kissing and embracing those beside them as though they themselves had been readmitted into the most sacred bond of intimacy. Chuck's plea for an additional moment of their time went unheeded. Glasses of champagne rose in toast not just to the beautiful bride and the male who had eventually won her heart, but to the mystery of relationships that bind lovers.
Cheers of those enthusiastically shouting Mazel Tov to the couple drowned out Chuck. He pivoted around to acknowledge that events had sped past him. And in a mellow, resigned voice that nobody could possibly hear, uttered what was his intention to say aloud, "No. Gabby, to the contrary. It wasn't we who gave you life and sustenance, but you, who gave it to us."