It is Sunday morning and I'm sipping at my coffee, mulling over what shape my day should take. Should I go full tilt and engage in activities that will leave me exhausted and broken, worn and limp? Or should I take the advice of no less an authority than God and honor the sabbath by treating it as a day of rest. I'm not going to lie to you, I'm leaning towards the latter option. I've got some Tom Waits ballads broadcasting from my speakers. I am content. Next up: Edith Piaf.
Rest would be fine. The days leading up to and including the wedding were rather hectic, but entirely manageable, especially compared to what the bride and groom must have gone through. And poor Janelle: her week had been a whirlwind that would have left those with less mettle than she whimpering in the corner. She pulled through.
The wedding was communal and festive, replete with touching and humorous moments. In other words, just the way you'd want a wedding to go. I rode up with Kreg, Pat, and Allie. Kreg did the driving (Pat and Allie don't own a car and mine was lacking operational headlights) and despite our best efforts, we arrived to the church a half hour late. Traffic, among other things, was the cause. We walked into the church, which was grand and expansive, right as the priest said "You may now kiss the bride". Good timing.
Even when it was evident that we were going to be late, I didn't feel so bad about it. Maybe I should have, but knowing it was a catholic wedding and that they're often long, drawn out, affairs, I was confident we'd only be missing out on a portion of it. In the interest of full disclosure, I should note that ever since I was a wee lad, I've never been enthusiastic about church, but you should know that the prevailing reason I didn't feel too bad about being late was that I was trying, in the tradition of eastern thought, to live in the moment and not get hung up on things outside of my control. The man upstairs shouldn't find fault with that. I guess I'll find out eventually.
Immediately after the ceremony, I hopped in Janelle's car and we headed over to the reception in Pelham. Nice place. Rolling lawn, gazebo, a bar set up outside - picturesque. An area by the bar was designated for the musicians. We weren't there long before we were called up to play. Not sure how well the song went over, pretty good I think, but the only thing that mattered to me was being up there with Janelle and the pride I felt hearing her sing. She was wonderful.
I played another song by myself and halfway through it, I recognized a former coworker of mine. I hadn't seen Christy since our Brookstone days, which was years ago. I had thought about her only a few days prior, going as far as looking her up, unsuccessfully, on FaceBook. Interesting. Fortunately, she was a coworker I got along with, so seeing her wasn't a bad thing.
She approached me afterward and we caught up a little. As we spoke, I recalled why I got along with her so well. While very disciplined in her professional life, Christy has an endearing flakiness about her that separates her from the pack. Throughout our conversation, there were moments I felt like I was talking to Annie Hall. La dee da. Nice reconnecting with her.
In the dining room, Shane's dad Skip sat with an acoustic guitar and sang "Even Though We Ain't Got Money" with his daughter, while Shane danced with his mother (His own mother, not Skip's mother. I could have structured that sentence better). Very sweet and touching. Janelle made me laugh when she asked if my father would do the same thing at our wedding. "That would be positively surreal", I replied. At the risk of my evening taking too strange a turn, I abolished the thought of my father serenading me and went about the business of having fun.
Years ago at my friend Tony's wedding, they did that thing where all the married couples get on the dance floor and throughout the song, the DJ says things like "Will any couple married less than ten years get off the dance floor". Well, Janelle and I, unmarried, got on the dance floor and outlasted nearly everyone. It was worth it if only to see the strange looks we were getting. Well, we did the same at this wedding - it is kind of a tradition, after all - and, while we didn't stay out there too long, we did have some fun with it. Kevin's little girl, Bella, danced with us. We formed a ring and every so often, Bella would twirl.
Janelle. It occurred to me later, back at home getting ready for sleep, how effortless my relationship with her is. I feel such a deep closeness to her, such a kinship, that it sometimes surprises me when I think about it. Like I did after the wedding. I mused over how essential she is to me, how important. I feel more at ease around her than I do with almost anyone else. So much is subtle, like how at the wedding if she wasn't around I'd look up to see where she was. Subtle. Janelle, I adore and love you so much. Thank you for being in my life.
An all-star lineup of friends that night. And I got to sit with a good lot of them at the table: Scott, Tracy, Ray, Mike, Kristen, Kreg, Pat, Allie, and Janelle. Most of them I've known almost my entire adult life. We don't always get to see each other, but when we do it's always a good time.
Shane and Jennie are married. I'm thrilled for them. The last dance at the reception was to AC/DC's "Big Balls". We all circled around the couple as they danced gaily, triumphantly, and before long, they invited the lot of us to join them. Many of us did. And we've got the biggest balls of them all.
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Spira came by with Missy last night and we watched the last episode of Dexter. Wow! Can't wait for the next season to begin. Today, I watched an episode of Mad Men. Forgot how well-written and well-acted this show is. Actually, it's well-everything. Oh, I love this show.
Enough of me. Practiced yoga earlier and cleaned the house. I guess I didn't end up resting too much, but still, it was a relaxing day. On to Monday.
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