community – DEEP ROOTS

Cheers to Lives Well-Witnessed: My Toast for the Newlyweds

Last week, my husband and I traveled to Arizona so I could stand up in the wedding of one of my best friends. From the night she asked me to be her maid of honor back in 2022, I started thinking about what I would say in my speech. Well, last Saturday was the big day, and people from all over the country came to support this couple! We had guests from Michigan, Illinois, Kentucky, New Jersey, Montana, Arizona, Washington, Hawaii, Alabama, Florida, and probably more states I’m forgetting. Together, in an absolutely GORGEOUS garden venue, we got to witness them take their next step into marriage.

After I delivered my speech to all the guests (including several of my genuinely esteemed leaders, mentors, and friends from my professional life), I received so many lovely compliments. My husband even told me a few times that watching me give my speech was the highlight of our vacation for him. An admittedly small group of people have been asking to see my speech, so I figured I’d share it here. I was so proud and honored to be a part of this wedding, and I hope you can feel the love I have for them through my words.

Hello everyone, and thank you so much for being here. We may not have walked into this event knowing everyone, but we all have something in common: we got to be here at the very beginning of this marriage. We got to bear witness to this union because of the roles we play in the lives of these two amazing people.

I’m Haley, and I’ve had the gift of having Kristen as a close friend for almost ten years now. We met at work, immediately bonded over our love for our nieces and nephews, and I’ve had a ride-or-die friend ever since. I’m fortunate enough to feel her impact in my personal and professional life, which means I have maybe too much to say about her. Fair warning here: I’m not particularly known for being concise. I’m a wordy gal. For your sakes, I’ve challenged myself to keep my message simple. Wish us all luck!

Kristen is an overt optimist. She is an artist. She is a giver. She is a margarita connoisseur. She is a believer in kindness, service, and gratitude. She is the person who, on my wedding day, flew into the role of day-of coordinator with zero notice because the day was crumbling. Despite my cake literally falling apart in the car on the way to my venue, my flowers and centerpieces being delivered super late, and a whole slew of tiny fires that needed to be put out, I walked into my reception completely unaware that any of it had even happened. Kristen is a savior of days, and at times, I’d even call her a miracle worker. I know that at least half of this room knows exactly how I felt when she told me back in 2018 that she was moving to Tucson. I didn’t want her to go! That’s my girl! That’s my bestie! Still, I knew she was creating the life she hoped for, and I was excited for her.

When she told me she had met someone, I was automatically both happy for her and, to be honest, slightly skeptical. Who was this guy? What were his intentions with my girl? Maybe it was the fact that I was firmly in my motherhood era and my protective mama bear nature was coming out, but optimistic givers like Kristen can sometimes find themselves in situations where they give more than they get. I decided to visit and check this new guy out a few years ago.

What I found when I arrived was a man who was just as enamored by Kristen’s sparkle as the rest of her friends and family are. I got to be a quiet observer of their love story as they took me around Tucson to show me their favorite places. Stephen and I met each other and learned a bit more about one another, and by the time I left, I had a new person in my life. Kristen doesn’t know this, but I teared up as my flight took off back to Detroit. I knew I was leaving my friend in excellent hands with a man who admired and encouraged her to take care of herself as much as she takes care of those around her.

Fast forward to today, and look at what they’ve built together. I truly want everyone to take a moment and look around you—faces you know, faces you don’t—all unified today as we watch them take this next step in their journey together.

When two people are getting married, something they often hear is, “Marriage is tough, but so worth it.” Now, I just celebrated my sixth anniversary with my incredible husband, Evan, and while I don’t claim to be an expert on marriage, I will tell you that from my experience and perspective so far, I completely disagree.

Marriage is a promise to bear witness to the life of another. It is a promise that no matter what happens—what curveballs life sends your way, the ups, the downs, the elation and devastation—I will witness you. I will love you. I will be here for you and help you through it all. You will not face any of it alone because I promise to be right by your side. I’m not saying that it will always be easy—what I’m saying is that when approached holistically and realistically, marriage is a strength. Life is what gets hard, not marriage. LIFE is what gets tough—and that’s when your bond has the opportunity to become even stronger.

Kristen, Stephen, I want you two to look at each other. I know you already said your vows, but I’m going to be bossy for a second and make you say a few more things. Married couples who are feeling festive, you are welcome to join me! Look at each other and repeat after me:

Through whatever is to come, I will be your witness.

I will protect your heart.

I will be your voice of reason and your biggest cheerleader.

I will give it to you straight, but always with kindness.

I will honor you by communicating my needs openly.

I promise to take care of myself so I can take care of you with a full heart.

I will hold you accountable.

I will love you and honor you with every breath.

Everyone, please raise your glasses and join me in celebrating the new Mr. and Mrs. Thamann! Congratulations!

More Than Mine

Two weeks ago, there was an event in honor of my grandfather at a local art gallery. We lost my grandpa nearly two years ago, and he had such a profound impact on his community that I now get to admire a mural that was painted in his honor. It is on display in the city in which he lived and worked – and for a man who spent a lot of time worrying over the future he was providing for his family and his community, I think that’s pretty damn close to miraculous.

The artist who painted it, Jeremy, made limited edition prints of his mural of my grandfather. My copy will hang on the photo wall I’m creating in my home, modeled after the one I admired in my grandparents’ home. It will hang near the art I inherited from him and my grandma. It is a surreal experience for me and to put it as plainly as I can, it’s very moving. I am a bit overwhelmed by it all.

The fact that my grandfather had this ripple effect on his community inspired me to get some of my thoughts out. I wrote this, and while it’s never going to be possible to fully articulate my feelings – hey, it’s a start.

I can’t be the expert on my grandfather.
I can’t because his life was so much more than the parts I got to observe.
I can’t measure the weight of his impact
On his friends. His sons. His dainty duck.
I can’t even measure the impact he had on me, though I know it was substantial.
I cannot possibly know the ways he both blessed and befuddled his neighbors.

What I do know is that he was observant and obstinate.
What I do know is that he was particular. Exacting. Meticulous. Firm.
His humor: quick and dry.

I was lucky enough to know him on a different level than most.
To most of you, he was a colleague. A boss. A mentor. A landlord. A partner. A leader.
He was sharp and resolved. He was so often RIGHT, if not incredibly stubborn.
That man who you knew better than to get into an argument with, if at all avoidable.

I was able to live with my grandfather in my life until I was 32 years old.
Three plus decades of influence from this man.
Three decades of watching him conduct classical music with one hand,
A glass of vodka or red wine in the other hand.
Three decades of his booming voice cheering for the Lions on Thanksgiving.
Three decades of him sitting at the head of my parents’ dining room table and sharing stories from when my dad and uncles were kids.
Three decades of seeing him smile through his retellings of favorite memories.
Mischief. Nostalgia. Wit.
Eight plus decades of experiences, stories, lessons, and values to pass down to his people.

Above all else, he wanted to see his community and his family thrive.
He wanted to provide stability for the people and places he loved.
He aimed to uphold the highest of standards.
He strived to create a legacy that outlived him.
And he did.

His legacy is woven into the fabric of our family,
Threads of resilience, humor, meticulous care.
Doing whatever it takes to provide for our people.
An intrinsic need to better our communities.

I miss him.
I had him longer than many have their grandfathers,
But when you admire someone so much,
There is no such thing as enough time.
I could have had a thousand more family dinners with him,
I should have asked a million more questions.

I miss hearing his “way to gos” and “attagirls.”
But the truth is, I still hear them.
Every accomplishment.
Every life lesson learned.
His influence is ever-present, in ways big and small.
The decisions I make.
The way I strive to live my life with integrity.

Attagirl, Haley!
I hope it never goes away.

Your Village Needs You

When you have babies and children in your life, a phrase you get to know pretty quickly is, “It takes a village.” The thing that nobody ever really talks about, though, is that everyone seems to have a different definition of what it means to be a part of someone’s village, and trying to find yours can be pretty isolating. This topic has been rattling around in my brain for a few years, but I had an experience lately that showed me my own shortcomings when it comes to this concept.

I pride myself on my connections with other people. One of my largest driving forces is ensuring the people around me know that they are seen, valued, and appreciated. My friends are on my mind with great regularity, and I try my best to maintain my connections with them. In December of 2022, one of these lovely friends asked me to be her maid of honor, and I gladly accepted. (I mean, she technically asked me to be her matron of honor, but the word matron makes me feel like Madame Thénardier from Les Misérables, so I’m sticking with maid, hahaha.) We’re getting closer to the wedding now, and I had the fun task of planning her bachelorette party at the end of June. We had the best time – it was the perfect mix of both getting dolled up and staying cozy. (For a group of women in their 30s, this is the dream!) As is standard for an overnight gathering with friends, we all had an opportunity to catch up with one another and have some rare uninterrupted time together. One of the attendees was a former-coworker-turned-good-friend who became a mom for the first time last June. Her baby recently turned one, and while we don’t work together anymore, we try to get together and catch up. Key word here being “try.”

I realized that weekend that I have not been as capable of being a good friend to her lately, and that realization weighed on me.

Here’s my reality check: I am acclimating to my life as a working mom of three. There is a LOT going on in my life right now. Twin babies, energetic toddler, wonderful husband, rewarding career, home maintenance, family time, networking events, and the never-ending parade of illnesses that come home from daycare…I could go on and on. The calendar fills up quickly and stays filled. Even so, I know I am not being as mindful with my time as I could be.

I realized after spending some time with this mama friend that I was failing her as a member of her village. I hadn’t been there to offer the kind of support I want to provide to my people. It was easy to let it fall off my radar – your girl is OVERWHELMED by this season, y’all. What does that look like for me? After a busy day of fulfilling all my obligations, you can find me scrolling mindlessly on the couch while I ignore a television show. To be clear, I’m not beating myself up for this. I can identify that it’s a problem, but I’ve learned to be a bit kinder to myself, and I know I can fix it with some effort.

Here’s another reality check: because of social media, we maintain a false sense of closeness with the people we follow. We replace picking up the phone or coordinating time to spend together by scrolling, liking, and commenting. Those actions require so little effort, but give the false illusion of “keeping up” with someone. Of course, I’ve checked up on her! Didn’t you see what she posted on Facebook last week? Sounds like things are going well for her!

Am I actually keeping up with you if I don’t get to know about the struggles as WELL as the highlight reel you post online?

No. No, I’m not.

After the bachelorette party, I was deep in my head. That first year of motherhood is a doozy. (Well, so far, every year has been a doozy, but that first year rocks your world in a way that is hard to describe.) I think I can count on one hand the number of times I saw that friend in the first year of her daughter’s life. After preaching the importance of connection for so long, this realization made me stop in my tracks and reassess the way I’ve been spending my time.

A few weeks ago, I picked her up on a Sunday afternoon. We grabbed a coffee, walked down to the water, sat on a bench, and chatted. It was so freeing to sit outside with a friend without having to chase a toddler or get grass out of a baby’s mouth. I had initiated the time together because I wanted to be there for her, but my goodness, I realized quickly how much I needed it, too. Being in mom mode 24/7 is exhausting. Having an hour to ourselves to talk about what we’re going through that may not make the Instagram grid was a relief.

The next weekend, we went to a shopping plaza. We got some coffees and bought diapers at Target. She kept me company while I got my eyebrows waxed and tinted at Ulta. I went with her to search Home Goods for hazelnut syrup for her home coffee bar. We both ooh’d and ahh’d at the cute clothes at Carter’s, and maybe I spent money I didn’t need to spend on matching pajamas for my girls. (Oops.) It was so nice to have that relaxed connection time while crossing things off our to-do lists. I don’t get that very often these days! Errands are usually rushed or skipped entirely, if I’m being honest. A leisurely stroll around a shopping plaza? Laughing about the absurdities of baby and toddler parenthood with someone else who is deep in the trenches, too? Uh, okay. Sign me up.

What inspired me to do this was the desire to help create a stronger village for her, but in doing this, my own village has also been strengthened.

This weekend, I’m actually taking my oldest on a playdate with her bestie from daycare. For the first time since August 2020, we’re having a bit of a mama/baby playdate, and I’m really excited. I’m also about to pick up my phone to text the friend I mentioned above so we can get another date on the calendar. My community is expanding, both in reach and in depth, and that is bringing me comfort in this whirlwind of a season.

Parents aren’t the only people who need a village, of course. If any of this resonated with you, I encourage you to reach out to a friend to set up some intentional connection time soon. Getting out of the front door can be hard, but humans have a genuine NEED for community. Honor yourself enough to do the hard work of shaking yourself out of a routine that may not be serving you anymore, and take care: both of yourself and of your people.