Not My Party
Sun., December 3, 11:53 AM
This should be my last wedding entry -- at least until pictures are available. "Not my party" was the way I explained things to Husband. "Are you going to invite so-and-so? But you don't like them." "It's not my party; if Son wants them, he will invite them." "Is there going to be chopped liver?" Husband thinks no wedding is complete without chopped liver; I think Son is not so keen about it. "It's not my party, and it's not my decision." I had already tried explaining that a wedding celebrates the bridal couple and that the official hosts are the parents of the bride. "Not my party" was easier.
Oh, yes, I had responsibilities, I asked questions and made suggestions. (Like reminding Son that he might not have a rabbi willing to attend a rehearsal on a Friday -- Sabbath -- night.) I was hostess to those of our guests who hadn't met the other two hundred or so. I have a sense of appropriate procedures, even if I am long out of practice; I made sure I knew what was going on where. My rule of thumb would be, I will not embarrass anyone. I would have a professional hairdo, even though I hate the atmosphere of hair salons. I made sure my daughters had professional hairdos as well. U.D., as you may realize, is not the formal type, and guiding her into choosing a proper gown was interesting, to say the least. She wore a long gown with a matching jacket, so that her tattoos were covered during the ceremony. Her shoes, which looked fine, were red velvet Sketchers. One of the groomsmen had picked up Husband's suit (he called it a "tuck"), and the nurse helped him dress. In general he would behave better if I weren't the one in charge, and I just kept him from a few faux pas, such as requesting ketchup on his filet mignon.
I was there to have a good time, and I did. My sister and her husband were there, as well as my brother and his two kids from California. It is always good to have family sharing special occasions.
The Banquet Staff
Maybe this sort of event is routine for these banquet people, but it was the first time I had seen it on this scale. They set up the grand ballroom for the ceremony, with a fairly short aisle that Husband could manage. (As we approached the end, the nurse helped Husband into his seat.) When the ceremony was over and the wedding party and the parents filed out through the back door, the other guests were guided into the next room for appetizers while the staff prepared the ballroom for dining and dancing.
The appetizers were bountiful -- a large and varied antipasto as well as waiters with hot foods like stuffed mushrooms and lamb chops. I searched the antipasto table for something Husband would like, but he doesn't like cheeses or cold sausage or anything in oil and vinegar. He did enjoy the hot potato pancakes, which made up for the lack of chopped liver. Of course, the main reason for an appetizer spread is to keep the guests occupied while the wedding party and their families are being photographed. I remember choosing wonderful appetizers for my own wedding and not getting to sample any of them. The waiters here did serve the photography rooms too.
One of the best criteria for a dinner is that the hot foods were hot and the cold ones were cold. Excellent job. The food was awesome, from the salad through the entree to the dessert. (I had chosen one beef and one fish entree, so that Husband could change his mind at the last minute; but if I had known what a delicious vegetarian meal they were offering -- U.D. gave me a taste -- I think I would have chosen that. Lovely champagne -- yeah, I skipped my meds so I could have champagne, 'cause my son does not get married every day.
The band -- a little loud for my taste -- played an eclectic choice of songs, from pop to rock to Portuguese, Brazilian and Jewish. My son had informed me of the groom-and-mother dance and asked me to pick a song. For the past several years my dancing has been confined to the privacy of my kitchen, but I think we did all right. I'm waiting for the video.
Pictures
Lots of people have asked but, y'know, I don't take pictures. That is, I happily accept them from other people, but I don't operate a camera. There are enough other people that do.
There were a couple of professional photographers as well as a videographer. Besides that, everybody and his aunt were taking pictures too. The professional photos will be available on the photographer's web site, and the young people agreed to share their pictures on a public photo site.
Personally, I have received two pictures so far, neither of which can I share. One is a very nice picture of M.D. and me -- but this is not about me, remember. The other is a rather nice shot of U.D., which I received as an oversized .pdf -- to protect the owner's work, I suppose -- and I don't know how to make it small enough to send around or post. So I will make an announcement when there are pictures ready. You will have to wait, just like me.
These Foolish Things Remind Me,,,
I often talk about jewelry with sentimental value, and that's how I chose the jewelry I wore. On my left hand, as usual, my wedding band and my engagement ring. On my right hand, a little pearl ring I always describe as "a birthday gift from my dad."
- Years later, I explained to my mother. "You kept saying, 'it's from your father.' And every time he said 'it's from both of us,' you would repeat, 'it's from your father.' (Don't know what was annoying her that week.)
My mother said, "you know he never would have been able to pick that out by himself." I agreed, but my mind always hears, "it's from your father."
Maybe I taught my mother a long overdue lesson that day: your children remember what you say.
I wanted to feel that my parents were present, and I wore a gold locket that used to belong to my mother. It has diamonds and opals on the outside, but the important part of it is the space for pictures inside. Before she died, my mother instructed my sister that I should have that locket because I was "the one with children." It now contains pictures of both parents as well as snapshots of the kids. They were all there.
Part of the Jewish wedding ceremony is that the couple share wine from a single cup. Son came to my house to retrieve his silver Kiddush cup, which was presented to him on the occasion of his bar mitzvah. It is his -- it doesn't belong in my house any more -- and it was an appropriate accessory to his wedding.
Some odd moments:
- As Husband, Son, and I entered the hall, a photographer called out, "Look this way." I looked up and smiled -- because I was happy and because I was thinking, "I don't want to look like that."
- After the ceremony I was informed that "you're officially old, now that your baby is married." Hmmph! My "baby" has been a functioning adult for ten years. However, I knew this reply would come in handy: "Who, me? I'm a stranger here. No one recognizes me because I m so elegant."
- As Son and I were dancing --with everyone watching us, of course -- my corsage detached. Son and I stared at it for a moment and then, in a gesture worthy of Fred Astaire, he tossed it over his shoulder and we continued dancing. And yes, he retrieved it for me as he led me back to my seat.
That seems to be it for a while. I should be ready to resume the threads of my life. Ahem.
