Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.
Back to hot days, cool
only after the sun fades.
Doors open at night.
It’s been quite the weekend. The son’s birthday was Friday, and September 11 is very much more personal to me than what it means to the rest of the country. He has had a busy birthday weekend and at 23 he parties on his own without his old mom these days, as young people are wont to do, as well they should. I saw him long enough to wish him a happy birthday and hand him a card with money. He doesn’t like to tell me what he likes or wants any more so cash fits the bill. Everybody can use extra cash.
For my part every year I experience a bit of depression beginning on September 10, the day I went into labor, which goes on through the 11th, the day I had my last minute Cesarean. In the good old USA, pregnancies are mostly a medical disaster, managed and mismanaged by medical personnel who have their own personal agendas, which does not include when baby is supposed to be born into this universe. Babies are brought early before they are properly cooked; women are rarely supported in natural labors and deliveries. Doctors prefer to take the infant at their convenience so they can get back to their own families or to the golf course or to that vacation in some tropical venue at the patient’s expense.
Some day I will share my full birth experience (read: horror story) the good part being both mother and child were relatively safe and well in the five days of hospital recovery from major surgery and traumatic birth.
Saturday I survived my three hour shopping tour and managed to avoid all the drivers who seemed to have no clue what that big red and white street sign with “STOP” in capital letters means. I became more seriously concerned for the state of the world when the young clerk I asked if he had a 50 dollar bill in his cash register to sell me looked at me in all seriousness and said “What’s that?”. I might offer my services to teach customer service and retail job awareness, though I completely understand those lessons may only work with some people and not others. This clerk might have been one of the others.
More exciting and fun was my nephew’s wedding Saturday evening. Sorry, no pictures for privacy purposes. My sister’s oldest son and his longtime girlfriend married at a local brew pub, a venue that provides covered and uncovered spaces for nuptials and receptions. Many of the family had reserved rooms in the hotel next to the pub which was safe and convenient. Since I don’t drink and live just a few miles from the pub, it was a quick and easy trip for me, though I realized how long it’s been since I drove at night and what a struggle that is beginning to be for me.
Oh! The bride was so beautiful, the groom so handsome! She wore her white strapless gown with such elegance, posture straight and confident, her face beaming radiantly. She donned a single flower in her French braided up-do, forgoing the traditional veil. Her dress had a row of cloth covered buttons up the back, and a short lacy train in the back.
The vows were lyrical words of love, devotion, and permanence to bind them forever. It was a warm late summer day, and they took their marriage vows in a small private meadow in full view of the sun and their families of loved ones in attendance. Two large white moths flitted between the flowers behind them, playing on the lavender and echinacea, and at one point I thought the moths might actually land on the wedding couple as a sign of approval from Mother Nature. Perhaps the moths were my mother and father, the groom’s grandparents, long deceased now, come to bless the union.
The bride’s chosen colors were pale pink and dove breast gray. The groom and his men wore gray vested suits with white shirts and pink ties. The bride’s maids wore pink sun dresses with cowgirl boots; the bride had her own boots on under her gown as well. The friends had all been raised around horses and are riders as well. The two little flower girls one aged about three, the other about five, had matching white ruffled dresses and their own cowgirl boots. The littles did a beautiful job of strewing the aisle of grass with rose petals for the bride to walk upon for her glorious entry.
In her pink sequined dress, I don’t think I have ever seen my sister look more beautiful, even at her own wedding. She beamed, she smiled, she glowed, even though I knew the shoes she had chosen were killing her feet. Her own wedding was her beginning as a wife; her son’s wedding was an acknowledgment of a life well led, of successful accomplishment in life as a wife and a mother and parent.
My brother-in-law’s suit matched his sons’s, a lovely soft gray. I loved the pale pink ties all the men wore. Brother-in-law looked like the proud peacock, tall and straight, patriarch of all he saw and had produced. We all have our foibles and our struggles in this life, but I have always admired how my sister and her husband gave their two boys a rich and full family life preparing them for families of their own.
In 1951 when my parents married, my paternal grandmother made little bride and groom dolls for their wedding cake. Grammy hand stitched both costumes, crocheted the over-dress and bonnet with the little tulle veil attached, and made the tiny bouquet carried in the hand of the bride doll. The dolls have a busy life traveling to each family wedding, coming out of seclusion as needed. Occasionally their costumes are refreshed. The dolls once again graced a wedding cake table. The bride and groom respected each other enough to serve up delicate small bites of wedding cake to each other with forks.
The new husband and wife began the dancing with Rebelution’s Ordinary Girl. The lyrics spoke so much of this young couple’s love and commitment to each other. Listen.
Monday the bride and groom retire to Hawai’i for a week of rest and relaxation amid sun and flowers and palm trees. They have begun their lives together in a modified Elizabethan tradition: after many years of courtship, they contracted their union last year when they bought a house and moved in together, and solemnized it with the matrimonial for all their loved ones to witness yesterday.
I wish this young couple all the love and trust and contentment in the world. We know how the world works; their lives will run easy sometimes, and hard at others. From the way these two young people, who have already had many years to become best friends and lovers, look at each other my guess is no man shall put asunder. Ever. Together. Forever.
Color Watch – colorful attractions in my neighborhoods this week – The wedding was shaded from the very full and hot sun by trees and tall hedges. Some of the trees were bedecked with pink and gray hand made paper flowers (and caught another photographer). The flower borders in the meadow surrounding the little wedding altar they had set up out under the sun.
Currently Reading – The Girl Who Slept With God (2015, fiction) by Val Brelinski; Finding Peter: A True Story of the Hand of Providence and Evidence of Life After Death (2015, biography); Shakespeare’s Wife (2009, history) by Germaine Greer. Yes, concurrently.
This week I have been grateful for:
- Being invited to share in the nuptials of my nephew and his bride.
- The expansion of my family.
- Meeting some of the bride’s family.
- The wedding venue being close to my home.
- So much joy and love in one meadow at one time.
- Knowing the bride and groom already have most everything they need in their home for home-keeping and making a pretty little card for them. I’m not very skilled at picking out nice or acceptable gifts (more stuff – most people like to pick out their own stuff). Finding a nice crisp new cash bill to slip into the card.
- Knowing the cash gift will help them have a lovely honeymoon.
- Having a pair of (fake) turquoise jeweled flip-flops to match my party dress as an alternative to wearing support hose and my new black flats. It was way too hot for hose. My pretty polyester dress was hot enough as it was.
- My brother coming from Washington state for the wedding and a chance to get a picture of me and all my siblings together. Our last opportunity was at my mom’s memorial more than two years ago and we were grieving so hard we didn’t think about a picture of us together.
- My cousin getting to come from Florida to enjoy the wedding with us. He travels for business and has been able to share many days with my sister’s family, and in his way has helped her two boys grow up. He has daughters so it has meant a lot to him to watch these boys mature.
- Several photos of the five of us (4 siblings plus 1 cousin), as my cousin and his brother (now deceased – a tragic story I might tell some day) spent many weeks of their lives in our family home. Like more brothers.
- Sharing time with my nieces and nephew, and their families.
- The amazing phenomena of hearing. The wedding venue, though a small meadow enclosed by 15 foot hedge trees, was next to a busy highway. While waiting for the wedding to begin, the noise from the traffic was quite loud. When the wedding began I did not hear a sound except for the officiator’s and bride’s and groom’s voices and the joy and love in the meadow.
- Other attendees getting better photos than me, and the few good pictures I got.
- Digital cameras.
Hoping you have a lovely week.
Namaste. Peace. Blessings.
Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch