CNN iReport

Weddings are invariably big time productions whether realized or not.

Besides selecting the church or ceremonial venue, reception hall, and service providers (caterer, band, photographer, make up artist, hair stylist, seamstress, tailor and etc.), there is also the task of coordinating the time and date of the wedding itself so as to assure the attendance of significant family members, friends and other guests.

Suffice it to say, weddings are emotionally draining and stressful; therefore, choosing the right people to become part of one's production team becomes even more important, for they can help provide a seemingly flawless presentation. And this is why the wedding industry constantly thrives despite a bleak economic condition.

Personally, I grew up despising weddings. I would much rather attend a funeral if given a choice.

You see, as far back as I can remember, at least once a month, I had a wedding to attend as a ring bearer.

It wasn’t because I epitomized the picture perfect image of a ring bearer; it was simply political, meant to please my parents more so than anything. You see, if my parents were asked to sponsor the marriage, rest assured, I would be the appointed ring bearer as well.

I never liked the entire setup because a Sunday spent at a wedding meant a day less for playing.

On the other hand, at funerals, I could at least play with my cousins the whole afternoon. But at wedding receptions, I was expected to act like a grown up -- never to soil my spiffy white shoes and shiny satin outfit with a gigantic bowtie.

On top of all that, I also have an aunt who, if she were still actively creating wedding gowns today, could easily give Vera Wang a run for her money. 

Her creations were truly outstanding. She has two daughters who were very cute and doll-like (when they were young); hence, often asked to be the flower girls. But how I found myself in the picture -- as ring bearer -- when she has two sons of her own puzzled me. Last month, I finally mustered the courage to ask her — if my two cousins as flower girls and I as ring bearer — were part of the package deal that she offered to her wedding gown customers. She gave me the heartiest laugh I’ve seen from her in ages.

I was tall for my age and at 12 I stood almost as tall as some grooms or their best men, but that didn’t stop people from asking my parents to have me as their ring bearer. Although my two cousins had retired as flower girls, I was still quite in demand.

I must have been the only ring bearer in the annals of wedding history who was already going through puberty. I started to get paranoid. I was afraid that I was fast becoming a wedding tradition — the generic ring bearer for everyone’s wedding. And that silly white costume was making me look more like a dreaded apparition; worse, a court jester. I had to do something and fast.

The only solution I came up with wasn’t nice, but I just had to do it. At this one wedding, I hid the rings in my pocket.

When everyone started getting frantic looking for them, all I said was that I was handed the pillow and didn’t notice if the rings were there to begin with or not. But in the end, I felt so bad for the bride who was about to cry so I pulled the rings from my pocket and handed them to her. Everyone heaved a sigh of great relief.

However, much to my dismay, no one berated me for my antic; in fact, they seemed even amused by it. Someone mentioned that I had actually done a good deed by lightening up the situation which was getting overwhelmed by a group of sobbing women.

On the way to the reception, my father put his arm around my shoulder and whispered, “Don’t worry. No one’s going to make you a ring bearer anymore.”

Thank God! You see, after that summer, I was heading for high school.