Wedding? There's a Wedding? Today?

Janes Journal Page Notes:
The Thread of Healing

Lead YOUR life, do not deny your truths,
Live, love learn and lose --- graciously.
Face your weaknesses, delight in your strengths.
If you teach yourself compassion, your life will come to you as easily as a child asks "why?"
For once one is healed, there follows many
to pick up the thread and meet
at the place in the path
Where the soul is healed

Journal entry:
It’s late...well, late for me: 11ish. I feel very old. There’s nothing like a family wedding to drain the strength from one’s bones.

I didn’t sleep well again last night--up till 2:00 AM worrying about not being able to sleep. Shades of the decade of my twenties! Consequently, when the front desk rang us at 8:00 to tell us about breakfast, I was not in much of a rush to get right downstairs for cold toast and fried tomatoes. Beast went right back to sleep after the phone rang. I tried to do the same, but couldn’t. Got up, attempted the impossible task of rousing Sparky so I could use his shower. There is only one key per room and he’d locked himself in (see yesterday re keys). I finally just ran a bath in our room and dunked my head in bath water to wash it. TOMORROW I’M HAVING A BLOODY SHOWER!!

Eventually, the boys woke up and each took a hot shower. We were too late for the hotel breakfast, so we went to Chez Famile and begged. Not unexpectedly, Jean was a bit of an emotional whack-job, crying as she cut a baguette up. Picture Katherine and Alan and me at the kitchen table watching her flail away with the knife. Alan just got up and left -- he’s not related. Yet. Katherine and I just sat there with, I’m sure, deer-in-headlights-looks on our faces.

{Katherine and Alan, Rosellen, and Jesse have joined us at the hotel for the next few nights, along with several friends of the couple. We’ve taken over the place!}

We got to the church right on time--12:30--timing it perfectly to discover that the wedding plans were shredding a bit.

Crisis #1: It was raining, as it has been off and on for several weeks. As it does in England. In fact, England is sort of known for rain. So why don’t the bride and groom know this?? They both grew up here.
Crisis #2: They had planned to serve juice before the ceremony; the juice wasn’t there. It eventually came, but only about 20 minutes before the wedding.
Crisis #3: The guys they had hired to do this evening’s BBQ called this morning to say they couldn’t be there; they had overscheduled or something. Ben was recruiting some friends to cover it; apparently they had hired the cookers separately from the cooks, so he just had to find people, not equipment. Just. On his wedding day.

The wedding itself was lovely -- the women in my family in tears except me because I had to hold it together for the poem. I couldn’t even look at anyone I knew for fear I’d break up. The "homily" portion was .. uhm, facile and sort of pointless, and silly, but otherwise a nice service. I like their pastor, but he didn’t do the homily. One of their friends, a young pastor, did it.

It took them forever to leave the church and get them on the way to the reception, as the family waited in the rain. I glanced at my watch at the end of the wedding, then glanced ever more frequently at it for some time. It took them thirty minutes. Really. As we all stood there with rice paper melting in our hands. They eventually did leave, just as the sun came out. Hurrah!!!! On many counts...

Because the reception was designed as a picnic, and since we had not been told what the arrangement really would be, and dreading sitting all afternoon on the ground in dressy clothes, Katherine, Alan, Elizabeth and the three of us came back to the hotel, changed into better outdoor clothes and found the reception by GPS. I’m in love with our car.

We realized as we started off towards the reception that we had no map, just an address in another suburb, no one had suggested how to get there. Thank God for GPS!! Otherwise we’d’ve been SOL. When we arrived we found everyone waiting on us for photos and very worried. Hmph. No one informed us we were still doing something as traditional as family pictures; up to this point--and afterwards--family was completely incidental to the whole pageant. All of us latecomers, except Sparky, were thrilled that we’d changed into jeans. Katherine was quite put out, as only she can be.

The reception itself began with picnic lunches, packed in carrier bags. Under a large, enclosed tent. Nice, very very clever idea. Ben and Marguerite had done all the food packaging themselves, with a lot of help from friends (and Rosellen, but not Jesse because he was informed he’s "useless" after a short foray of assistance; no one else in either family was even asked!). Three kinds of salads, two varieties of meats, several kinds of cheeses, naan bread and tortillas...lots and lots of food. And three bottles of wine per 10-person table. Whew. Lots of leftover food, but tasty and good. The new couple made the rounds, but never quite got to the family tables before the next "entertainment" commenced.

Games outside, down the hill away from the tent. This is a sort of city retreat center, I think, so there were swings and a treehouse, the latter commandeered by the obnoxious group of friends who hauled up umpteen bottles of wine, broke at least three of the rungs of the ladder and got blitzed. We played Frisbie. It was fun. Everyone had a good time.

After we’d had our fill of Frisbie, we went back to the marquee to find the band preparing to perform. There was a group of people trying to do back flips on the lawn in front of it, and Marguerite finally caught up with Beast, Elizabeth and me. We told her we were having fun but wished we’d had more of a chance to meet some of their friends. Marguerite told us that their friends all find us "different." She realized how that sounded, probably because Elizabeth and I looked dumbfounded and burst into laughter. Then she got all tangled up in it: no, no, it’s just that we’re loud and opinionated. This right next to the back-bend contingent and the drunken treehouse gang. But this is us on our good behavior ... with none of them even speaking to us to find out our opinions!

The discussion kind of stopped at that point because the band really started to warm up. They played a few loud very well--the lead singer looks like a young Graham Norton--including several Beatles songs, "Soul Man" and another Chicago blues tune, and "Blue Suede Shoes." Very very good.

Then speeches from the father of the groom (Reg, for those of you keeping score), the best man (er, woman) and the couple themselves. Or rather the couple himself. Marguerite said not a word. Cake was cupcakes and/or jammy scones. Very cute. The original plan was for everyone to bring a cupcake to add to the cake stands--yeah, ok, all us out-of-town people are going to be BAKING the day of the wedding?! Glad someone talked them down from that...

Things to ponder and try not to stay cranky about:

• Ben's patronizing "Don’t panic!" to me (and Jean) when we asked about reserving seats in the sanctuary (I told him we weren’t panicking, just trying to take some of the burdens off him.)
• Rolling Rock beer??!
• Speeches began after 8 pm. Cake served at 9:45. BBQ-rebuilt served at 10, as we were leaving.
• Glad to know that Americans aren’t the only parochial slobs with no clue how to be civil. I always knew it, of course, but now I have empirical proof
• There’s a song about pink and blue toothbrushes? How weird. But I guess that’s the joke of the whole thing, lost on and never explained to us Americans

If we really are scoring at home, I’d give the wedding itself about an 8. No one tripped over the flowered aisle-runner, and the service was very well-planned. Obviously they had completely thought it out, because they did nothing traditional. Except signing the paperwork in the middle of the service, which is trad here.

I’d give the picnic a full 10 for overall coolness. I’d give the games a 9 for the same reason. We missed the BBQ. The music was a 10, but they only played that one set.

So, on the surface it looks like a 9. So how come I feel like a -2??

• Because I’m tired and snarky.
• Because I feel as if I spent much of the day repeating things like, "It’s only because s/he is stressed," and "Just tell me where, when & what to do; otherwise I’ll be sitting in the corner quietly."
• Because I’m tired of being quiet about being placated, ignored and presumed upon.
• Because I probably behaved every bit as poorly at Marguerite's age when I got married!!

The arrogance of youth.

When I was younger, so much younger than today
Never needed anybody’s help in any way
But now these days are gone; I’m not so self-assured
My independence seemed to vanish in the haze

Help me if you can -- I’m feeling down
And I do appreciate you bein’ round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won’t you please, please help me?

Wish Marguerite would have listened to these lyrics! It’s what the whole battle between Jean and Marguerite has been about...not that there have been any pitched battles, of course. All Marguerite would have had to say is "What do you think, Mum?" a few times.

They played this song tonight. Irony.

Ah, well, good night. Maybe sleep will improve my vision.