In the fullness of aging, I witnessed our youngest wed the love of his life and launch into his future. ~That is a blessing ~
Today, under a clear blue sky, the air heavy with falling leaves and the soft light of autumn, I watched as the white high-top tent was taken apart, one metal strut at a time. The clear plastic roof and sides were unzipped, rolled up, and tossed into the back of a large truck. The wooden tables and benches were stacked one on top of the other, heaved up and shoved beside the canvas rolls. Stacks of black boxes of food crusted dishes, cutlery and glasses were treated more gently and deposited in a trailer that looked like it should tow a race car rather than tableware. This was the day after the day after hosting our son’s wedding.
The twinkling lights, flowers and candles were gone. The speakers and sound system unplugged and packed away. The gauzy white shroud over the carefully crafted wooden arbour was hanging listlessly, the orange chrysanthemums looking lost without rows of friends and family flanking them.
The day before the wedding, the air was electric. After three days of rain, the clouds parted, and the sun shone down on us as we buzzed about our property, two families coming together to create a magical day. There were benches to place that required a committee to determine the exact angle and location. The chairs were unfolded and tucked along the tables, which were carefully placed, moved, repositioned and shoved into the precise location under the guidance of the bride and groom. The potted plants were inspected and opinions on their placement and colour sequence taken into account to perfect their final landing spot. Still more twinkling lights were strung on anything and everything between the house and the tent. There was a discussion about flowers to adorn the trailer housing two well-appointed washrooms, however, we forgot. By the time people had to pee it would be dark anyway.
By 5 pm we settled into a rehearsal of sorts. The sound system was tested; people were told who would be walking with whom and what the route from the house to the arbour would be– after much discussion. Then we agonized over where to hide the Bride before the ceremony. We were then reminded of the Saturday morning agenda: flowers, hair, lunch, caterer arrival and set up, parking considerations, and making sure the boys were clean and dressed by 3 pm. The location of the wedding bands and vows was a constant source of concern and tracking.
The night before dinner provided the opportunity to practice matching names and faces, watch an infant and toddler manage a crowd of adults and stay up past their bedtime, and review the timing and agenda for the day of the nuptials – one more time.
The day of the wedding sits in my brain and body as a slide show of many joyful tears, magical beauty and love. Between the slides I struggled to stay present and soak in the moments. Time stood still once I was dressed and made up, until the guests sat down for the ceremony. It then raced ahead to the walk, the vows, the declaration and the kiss. We sat in the front row, hearts beating and eyes full. Then it slowed down for the pictures and cocktails. Finally seated at the long table, adorned with muted orange and yellow flowers in clear tiny vases and flickering tea lights, I took in the sea of smiles and din of conversation and laughter that spilled out the open sides of the tent and down into the valley. I tried to have conversations with my brother on one side and dear friends on the other side and across from me. I couldn’t focus. I was overwhelmed with the glow of the lights, the breathtaking sunset and my thin line of sight through to the table where my son and his now wife sat facing me. I was in awe at the depth of love and commitment uttered between them during the ceremony. I was warmed by their deep and caring friends circled around them. I snuck glances down the table at our two daughters. Gorgeous and self-assured. I had moments of my heart bursting, and periods of feeling like I was watching a Hollywood movie, an observer.
Once the music started, I was transported into an energetic trance. Dancing with family and friends keeps me connected and attached to the moment and the beat. The slightly sloped and slippery floor was gracious and resilient to many hours of sliding, stomping and jumping. Each song drew people from their resting spot or had them dancing wherever they were standing.
That was how it was the day of. The day after and the one after that? Despite our weariness, the reminiscing, the chronic sharing of pictures, the tidying up and putting away, and the boxes of scrumptious leftovers are filling in the blanks and solidifying the magic of the day. We can’t stop the flow of words, the smiles and the hugs. We don’t want to. Bride and groom, four parents and three sisters sharing our unripened memorable moments, funny experiences, and interesting observations extends the life of the event. And keeps us tethered to a time of family celebration, special moments shared with friends, and the joyful foundation laid for our newlyweds to build a life together.