One of my favorite things is giving wedding toasts. I’m super sappy, I love reminiscing over fond memories, and I love making people feel good about who they are (because they are good people).

It’s a fun challenge, because it’s a delicate balance. You have to be clear that this is a story of your experience with the couple, but the focus of the speech is the couple —not you.

I also love writing and then reading my writing aloud (it’s my adrenaline kick of choice). So I guess it gets to be about me again? Oops.

I’ve been lucky enough to give a few toasts at weddings. I treasure those experiences. And a few times, I’ve written a blog post to toast the happy couple, because I’m bursting with memories and love and thoughts, so those blogs posts also feel good.

But I’ve missed a few opportunities, times when there was an open mic to do it. I just got too nervous I wouldn’t have the right words — I’m a writer, not a speaker.

I haven’t forgotten those opportunities, because I knew what I was going to say — at least the essence — I just didn’t take the leap. And I hate regret. So, here. And sorry for not saying this four years ago. xo

Mark and Sara Trampe. Memorial Weekend, 2011.

So, what should we talk about?

Sara, I don’t know you very well. But you’ve chosen Mark, so you obviously have good taste. Mark is one of the best men I know. Whether leading us on a camping trip to an undisclosed location or spending his time helping move a friend or just helping us have a good conversation — which might be what he’s best at — Mark is a good friend. One of the best.

And, Sara, you should also know about his plans. I can’t remember the context, but there was a conversation about what we wanted to do with our hypothetical partners once we got married. Mark got all shy and only later, in an email, did he tell me and, I think, Daneen and/or Chris, “My wife and I will have the most fun of any couple in history.”

And I suppose that is my toast for you. May you have the best time together.

Libby Mowers-Simon and Ben Simon. June 11, 2011.

A few years ago during the Christmas season, I was home with Libby. We were talking about how school was going for her, and she was talking about this poetry class and how she really liked it and how she loved talking about poetry with her friend, Ben. And it was just sort of obvious that there was more to it, even though they weren’t dating or anything. She didn’t say she liked him, but she clearly did.

I think it was the beginning of this world you’ve built together. You have your own sky, your own language. You know each other perfectly in this world.

I didn’t understand it when you started referring to each other as Wifey Ivy and … whatever Ben’s nickname was. But you knew. You’ve known for so long. You’ve said many times that you each knew that if you started dating you’d end up married. And that’s perhaps the bravest part. Starting the thing you know will make you happy.

I love that this wedding is just so you. Not only the way you’re doing it — with the rainbow dress, and outside, and small, and short-notice, and, “Hey, everybody bring your swimsuits,” and casual and fun — but the very fact that you are doing it your own way. That’s you.

I’m very sorry for all the times I’ve tried to impose my own understanding on you. I hope you know it’s only ever been out of this deep, guttural love I have for you.

I think one of the reasons we’ve been able to be such good friends in addition to sisters is that we do listen to each other. We understand each other in a unique way, and we’re really successful as friends when we share back and forth. You’ve spoken some very important truths to me over the years. And I’m grateful for our friendship. And I am ecstatic that you’ll be in Omaha with me.