My sister’s best friend got married on Saturday. It was an outdoor affair in New England. The weather in New England in July is typically hazy,hot and humid. I tend to stay indoors and pray for an instant mini-Ice Age. That prayer is seldom answered, so while I was ecstatic that this dear family friend was tying the knot and deeply in love, I was reluctant to attend the proceedings. I did pray that the weather would be mild and that my deodorant would hold up, though.
You know, it was a beautiful day. Sure it was hot. Not Africa hot, but it was well over my preferred outdoor temperature (a balmy 65). We wisely chose seating in the shade. The other folks attending didn’t fare as well. Too bad for them, I say. They should have arrived early. Festival seating it was. One group sat up front and in the sun. They were baking like carp in the sun. They moved a couple rows back but didn’t factor the movement of Earth around the Sun into the equation, so it appeared as though the Sun was following them.
I laughed. I am a cruel, cruel woman.
My sister’s best friend looked lovely, though. I normally don’t cry at weddings chiefly because I don’t like weddings. I’m happy enough for the couple but I couldn’t care less about the dress, the attendants, the flowers, the choice of music -they chose “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” as sung by Celine Dion. I have no words. I’ll never get those fifteen minutes back. I’m not in the greatest shape. I could use those fifteen minutes.
But this time, I had the misty eyed smile plastered on my face. You see, Natalie has always been there for us. When my sister died, her best friend went along, you know? How do you deal with that? There are no more inside jokes, no one to call when you’re watching an old movie…the anecdotes from childhood pretty much remain in your memory banks. You can’t share inside jokes…you have to break in somebody new to sort of pinch hit for ya.
That’s not fair. I know that sounds odd coming from the sister of the departed, but I really felt for her when my sister died. What could I do, though? We hung out and did things together, but for me she was always my sister’s pal, not mine. So she would take the kids to the park, get them presents on their birthdays, come over when I would bake cookies for the coming school year (she is still a sucker for my chocolate chip cookies) and we would listen to music, but I know that she had to be a bit lonesome.
I prayed for her to find a mate. She did. My mom was the matchmaker. How cool is that?
SO, on Saturday I thought about all the years we’d known one another. All the memories, the laughter, the venting, the loving and I cried. Both of her parents have passed on, so her siblings gave her away. It was sweet. It was a simple ceremony and the garden was filled with hope and love for the couple.
My niece made the favors for the wedding. It took her forever. She went a little nuts. Plastic canvas embroidery is mindnumbing and she’s a perfectionist.
I have to tell ya, I was proud. They turned out beautiful and you couldn’t tell that they were homemade. It was a nice touch. The kid gets her perfectionism from my sister. You KNOW she didn’t get it from me.
Anyway, Nat looked beautiful, Rickey was sweating like a hooker at a revival and it was a gorgeous day. The one false note for me was that in the heat, they could have provided us with a cold drink or perhaps a push-up pop. If I ever get married in the Summer, I’m going to provide push-up pops and juice boxes. Ice water at least…
But, since you and I know that me getting married is about as likely as George Bush having an ounce of compassion, let’s just say we’ll have push up pops regardless. I love those things.
To Nat and Rickey, all the best. Mazel tov!