Today's date calls to mind a myriad of images and thoughts, but the most prevalent is the memory of the event that makes this date so special for me; our wedding day.
It was a day of sunshine and warmth, as most days are in Miami, and my first thought when I woke up was that this was the last I would spend in my room at my parent's house. It wasn't long before I was standing in front of that home, where I had spent my teen years, my wedding gown laid out on the back seat of my girlfriend's car, and my dad standing beside me with tears in his eyes. It was only the second time in my life I'd ever seen him cry. "See you at the church, Daddy," I said, kissing his cheek.
Staring out a window, in an upstairs room at the church, dressed in my dream gown, with my bridesmaids and my mother as companions, I had my only moments of nervousness - because the groom was late! I could see my dad, pacing out in front of the church entrance. I had no qualms that R.J. wouldn't show up; he was always late for everything. It was a little distressing to me, however, that he would continue that bad habit on our most important day! But then I saw the best man's car pull up and R.J. get out, looking harried, but handsome. He exchanged words with my dad and he laughed, and they walked into the church. The moment I had waited for my whole life was upon me.
As the strains of the wedding march began, my dad leaned over and whispered, "Be happy, honey" and I answered that I was sure I would. And I was. Walking down the aisle, seeing only R.J. at the altar, I had none of those butterflies or doubts that I've heard many brides have at that moment. I knew I was doing the "most right" thing I had ever done by marrying this man.
Our years together have proven that. No, they haven't all been easy, and a couple of times we nearly gave up. But we always found a way back to each other because neither of us could imagine a life without the other. I always look to him as my confidante, my lover, my rock in times of crisis, and the person I'd rather spend time with than any other. I can truly say I am still married to my best friend.
We've struggled at times, we've thrived and enjoyed our bounty when those times presented themselves, and we've shared experiences so unique we still don't believe that a lot of them happened to us. We are infinintely proud of our two children, who are now raising children of their own. They all give us new joys and experiences that enrich our marriage as well.
So, tonight, after 44 years of learning and sharing together, we will take to the dance floor at our favorite lounge, the historic Pump Room in Chicago, to spend a few special moments recreating the first time we ever danced together, in the cafeteria of our high school, at a dance where we first fell in love. And I will pray that we're still celebrating the same way 44 years from now.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
A Dancing Hero
Since becoming a dancer myself, at the young age of 8, I have had my heroes among the dancing world. Serious injuries to both my knees in my 30's ended my dancing days, but I continue to watch and learn from special individuals who share my passion for the dance. One of those I admired most was Patrick Swayze.
I still remember his effortless and mesmerizing performance in "Dirty Dancing". By the time that movie came out, my dance experience was limited to observation; a posture not easily suffered by those who have known dance as a discipline. The originality of his movements, the style that he introduced in that film, made me a fan for life. Even the last time I saw him dance, in a flawed film he made with his wife and partner of 30-plus years, Lisa Neemi, I was still in awe of the way he maneuvered his body, in a way that any dancer of his age would find almost impossible; he pulled me in to the moment as I marvelled at his unending ability and unique talents.
It wasn't only his physical ability that I admired. His performance in "Ghost" will always be one of the most complete and touching, and I never failed to appreciate the positive effort he gave in his acting choices. But, most of all, his approach to life, and especially to its struggles, gave me much to respect. There was no Hollywood phony there; he was the genuine article.
When I watched his touching interviews, after he became ill, all I could think about was how frustrated he must be that he could no longer will his body to dance. It is a feeling only another dancer can fathom. And, God, what a master he was! I am lucky that I will always have his work on film to enjoy long after this sad day is past. But, whenever I see him catch Baby in that incredible lift at the end of "Dirty Dancing", I know I will mourn the fact that he didn't have enough time on this earth to do all the dancing he still had in him.
I still remember his effortless and mesmerizing performance in "Dirty Dancing". By the time that movie came out, my dance experience was limited to observation; a posture not easily suffered by those who have known dance as a discipline. The originality of his movements, the style that he introduced in that film, made me a fan for life. Even the last time I saw him dance, in a flawed film he made with his wife and partner of 30-plus years, Lisa Neemi, I was still in awe of the way he maneuvered his body, in a way that any dancer of his age would find almost impossible; he pulled me in to the moment as I marvelled at his unending ability and unique talents.
It wasn't only his physical ability that I admired. His performance in "Ghost" will always be one of the most complete and touching, and I never failed to appreciate the positive effort he gave in his acting choices. But, most of all, his approach to life, and especially to its struggles, gave me much to respect. There was no Hollywood phony there; he was the genuine article.
When I watched his touching interviews, after he became ill, all I could think about was how frustrated he must be that he could no longer will his body to dance. It is a feeling only another dancer can fathom. And, God, what a master he was! I am lucky that I will always have his work on film to enjoy long after this sad day is past. But, whenever I see him catch Baby in that incredible lift at the end of "Dirty Dancing", I know I will mourn the fact that he didn't have enough time on this earth to do all the dancing he still had in him.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
On My Soapbox
Normally, I don't address political issues here, but this one was triggered when I found myself re-reading old journal entries from about fifteen years ago, and realized that, even though we - referring to my family as a whole - are still working just as hard, our way of life is nowhere near what we enjoyed back then.
There are some at the top of the political ladder, such as our current President, who "get it"; who realize that the "middle class" that my husband and I considered ourselves lucky to be a part of, is disappearing. There are so many millionaires, or pseudo-millionaires, in our society today, that we have slid into a new type of lower class, I guess.
We no longer enjoy simple pleasures such as eating out on a regular basis, going to movies and shows whenever we want, taking trips to visit friends or explore new areas, going shopping for luxuries and clothes we want, not just need, and generally enjoying the fruits of our honest labors. In a more serious vein, we can no longer buy affordable health insurance, consider buying a home, a new car, or rewarding our offspring with occasional monetary gifts. These were all aspects of our life that were just habit in those journals I read and I thought, we can't do any of this anymore!.
Yes, I know we're in the worst recession since the great Depression, and yes, I know we all have to "bite the bullet" and try to make it through. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm referring to the fact that our society has expanded in an unhealthy way; one that excludes that middle income family. We are not rich enough to afford the things we once took for granted - and not poor enough to have them provided for us by government assistance. We still work just as hard for our money, but our lifestyle - and that of our struggling children - is nothing like what we envisioned or enjoyed in the past.
It makes me angry when I hear the "haves" declaring that "nothing is wrong with our system", that we don't need to tax the ultra rich, that we don't need price controls, or reform for health care, or any of the other measures that might stem this greed that now pervades our society, leaving the defunct middle class forgotten in its wake to make "more, more, ever more".
What a soapbox this is today! Couldn't help it, though. I still harbor hope, in my unending optimism, that things will get better. I know this current economic mess will right itself eventually, but that isn't my focus here. I want to see the endless media seriously address the issue of what has happened to that middle class life I treasured as my children grew up and we were able to constantly strive for better things because we knew they were possible. And I don't mean a two-minute piece on the morning newsmagazine. This is the country where anyone is supposed to be able to have a good life for their loved ones if they work hard. The meaning of that sentence has certainly changed - and not for the better. Think about it.
There are some at the top of the political ladder, such as our current President, who "get it"; who realize that the "middle class" that my husband and I considered ourselves lucky to be a part of, is disappearing. There are so many millionaires, or pseudo-millionaires, in our society today, that we have slid into a new type of lower class, I guess.
We no longer enjoy simple pleasures such as eating out on a regular basis, going to movies and shows whenever we want, taking trips to visit friends or explore new areas, going shopping for luxuries and clothes we want, not just need, and generally enjoying the fruits of our honest labors. In a more serious vein, we can no longer buy affordable health insurance, consider buying a home, a new car, or rewarding our offspring with occasional monetary gifts. These were all aspects of our life that were just habit in those journals I read and I thought, we can't do any of this anymore!.
Yes, I know we're in the worst recession since the great Depression, and yes, I know we all have to "bite the bullet" and try to make it through. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm referring to the fact that our society has expanded in an unhealthy way; one that excludes that middle income family. We are not rich enough to afford the things we once took for granted - and not poor enough to have them provided for us by government assistance. We still work just as hard for our money, but our lifestyle - and that of our struggling children - is nothing like what we envisioned or enjoyed in the past.
It makes me angry when I hear the "haves" declaring that "nothing is wrong with our system", that we don't need to tax the ultra rich, that we don't need price controls, or reform for health care, or any of the other measures that might stem this greed that now pervades our society, leaving the defunct middle class forgotten in its wake to make "more, more, ever more".
What a soapbox this is today! Couldn't help it, though. I still harbor hope, in my unending optimism, that things will get better. I know this current economic mess will right itself eventually, but that isn't my focus here. I want to see the endless media seriously address the issue of what has happened to that middle class life I treasured as my children grew up and we were able to constantly strive for better things because we knew they were possible. And I don't mean a two-minute piece on the morning newsmagazine. This is the country where anyone is supposed to be able to have a good life for their loved ones if they work hard. The meaning of that sentence has certainly changed - and not for the better. Think about it.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
What's It About?
The title of this post is a question I invariably receive after telling someone I'm working on a novel. My general answer is somewhat vague, since I want to keep the details for the day when everyone will be able to read the published work - which I hope will be soon! Lately, though, I've been getting this question from my faithful blog readers, so I want to address it in a more pointed way.
Before I answer the question, I'd like to explain the birth of this novel, and the strange and lengthy journey it has taken up until now. The idea came to me 25 years ago - yes, you read right - while on a getaway weekend to St. Augustine, Florida. My husband and I were staying in our favorite bed and breakfast there (if you've never gone there, make it a point - great history, great shopping and great places to stay; but I digress!). The protagonist character of the book, Samantha, began to form in my mind as I thought about a possible plot involving a woman who runs a B&B, a tragedy that brings her daughter (Samantha) from her acting profession in New York to St. Augustine to help her with the Inn, and all that happens as a result. I knew I wanted it to be a character-driven novel and I began a couple of chapters on a legal pad in longhand. After that weekend, I returned to my very busy job at Walt Disney World, my home, my family, and all my other responsibilities and - you guessed it - the book remained an idea in my head.
Over the years, and through several moves, I toyed with the book but never devoted the time necessary to finish it. At one point, when my husband and some other collaborators were working on some screenplays, it was suggested that I change the story to a screenplay format. I actually did complete it that way, but was never happy with it because it condensed all the characters, and, as a result, came out flat for me.
Finally, in the early years of the current century, I completed a draft of the book. I had a couple of people read it, and got some positive response, but they pointed out flaws as well - flaws I already suspected and they confirmed. I put the book aside because I was busy ghostwriting an autobiography, and writing articles for regional publications, and just didn't feel I could give it the attention it deserved.
Then, five years ago, we moved to Chicago. That monumental change in our lives - all to the good - saw my writing career come to a screeching halt for awhile. I was simply too busy helping my husband with his career, helping our daughter and her family settle in (they had moved here at the same time), establish a new base for all our activities and home-centered tasks, and I wanted to get acquainted with this wonderful City again.
That was a long-winded way of getting the point, but I wanted to lay it out because, during all those years, the book kept growing in my head, even when I wasn't putting words to paper. The characters grew, the story took on more shape and depth, and I believed in it so strongly that I knew it had to be completed. I revised the first draft, then did another, but still felt something was missing. My "awakening" came when I joined my writer's group last year, and they began helping me to improve what I had already written. Through that process, I have continued to find ways to make the characters come more alive on the page, and, at last, I know I possess the ability to produce the book I've always envisioned.
So, what is it about? As I've said, it's a character-driven novel (for those who are not writer savvy, that means the plot is developed from actions driven by the character's personalities). That generally places it in the category of women's fiction - even though I believe some men would find it an enjoyable read. It is titled, "Ribbons Of Love" and the title refers to all the various kinds of love that impact one's life: family ties, friends, romance, etc. - each type encountered by Samantha, the main character, influences her conflicts and the direction her life takes. The setting of the book begins in New York City before she moves to a small town in Virginia, and also includes time she spends in England. The story focuses on her, but other major characters are essential to the plot; her best friend, her mother, her new boyfriend, friends she acquires in Virginia, and some she meets in England. The forces that drive her are her acting, her love of writing, and the memories of her earlier marriage - all of these figure into her new life and the good and bad that happen there.
Without giving you the actual plot details, I hope I've created interest in reading the finished product. My hope is to have it going out to agents by the Fall (yes, of this year!). Then, we just keep trying, and play the wait-and-see game. Wish me luck - and let me know what you think.
Before I answer the question, I'd like to explain the birth of this novel, and the strange and lengthy journey it has taken up until now. The idea came to me 25 years ago - yes, you read right - while on a getaway weekend to St. Augustine, Florida. My husband and I were staying in our favorite bed and breakfast there (if you've never gone there, make it a point - great history, great shopping and great places to stay; but I digress!). The protagonist character of the book, Samantha, began to form in my mind as I thought about a possible plot involving a woman who runs a B&B, a tragedy that brings her daughter (Samantha) from her acting profession in New York to St. Augustine to help her with the Inn, and all that happens as a result. I knew I wanted it to be a character-driven novel and I began a couple of chapters on a legal pad in longhand. After that weekend, I returned to my very busy job at Walt Disney World, my home, my family, and all my other responsibilities and - you guessed it - the book remained an idea in my head.
Over the years, and through several moves, I toyed with the book but never devoted the time necessary to finish it. At one point, when my husband and some other collaborators were working on some screenplays, it was suggested that I change the story to a screenplay format. I actually did complete it that way, but was never happy with it because it condensed all the characters, and, as a result, came out flat for me.
Finally, in the early years of the current century, I completed a draft of the book. I had a couple of people read it, and got some positive response, but they pointed out flaws as well - flaws I already suspected and they confirmed. I put the book aside because I was busy ghostwriting an autobiography, and writing articles for regional publications, and just didn't feel I could give it the attention it deserved.
Then, five years ago, we moved to Chicago. That monumental change in our lives - all to the good - saw my writing career come to a screeching halt for awhile. I was simply too busy helping my husband with his career, helping our daughter and her family settle in (they had moved here at the same time), establish a new base for all our activities and home-centered tasks, and I wanted to get acquainted with this wonderful City again.
That was a long-winded way of getting the point, but I wanted to lay it out because, during all those years, the book kept growing in my head, even when I wasn't putting words to paper. The characters grew, the story took on more shape and depth, and I believed in it so strongly that I knew it had to be completed. I revised the first draft, then did another, but still felt something was missing. My "awakening" came when I joined my writer's group last year, and they began helping me to improve what I had already written. Through that process, I have continued to find ways to make the characters come more alive on the page, and, at last, I know I possess the ability to produce the book I've always envisioned.
So, what is it about? As I've said, it's a character-driven novel (for those who are not writer savvy, that means the plot is developed from actions driven by the character's personalities). That generally places it in the category of women's fiction - even though I believe some men would find it an enjoyable read. It is titled, "Ribbons Of Love" and the title refers to all the various kinds of love that impact one's life: family ties, friends, romance, etc. - each type encountered by Samantha, the main character, influences her conflicts and the direction her life takes. The setting of the book begins in New York City before she moves to a small town in Virginia, and also includes time she spends in England. The story focuses on her, but other major characters are essential to the plot; her best friend, her mother, her new boyfriend, friends she acquires in Virginia, and some she meets in England. The forces that drive her are her acting, her love of writing, and the memories of her earlier marriage - all of these figure into her new life and the good and bad that happen there.
Without giving you the actual plot details, I hope I've created interest in reading the finished product. My hope is to have it going out to agents by the Fall (yes, of this year!). Then, we just keep trying, and play the wait-and-see game. Wish me luck - and let me know what you think.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Never Enough Books
I've always gravitated to libraries. It doesn't matter how large or small they are, I have to investigate them, because there are never enough books in the world to satisfy my curiosity and love of reading. My mother taught me to read at the ripe old age of four, and, ever since, it has been a window to pleasure and learning.
The first library I remember was in the small town of Maitland, Florida, in the mid-1950's. The building had once been a large one-story house, and the steps up to the double doors always signalled a new adventure for me. I would ride my bike there and spend hours exploring the stacks. For several weeks one year, I was allowed to volunteer there to help with various chores, including replacing books on the shelves, so that I could earn a Girl Scout badge. It was then that I learned the Dewey Decimal System for categorizing and filing books by subject. Thirty years later, I would return to that library with our children. Maitland was now a suburb of Orlando, and where we lived for nearly 20 years. The library building had been added to, there were lots more books to peruse and borrow, but every time I walked into the "old" part of the library, all those girlhood memories flooded back. And I loved the connection that our family had to that place.
Currently, I have a card that allows me access to all the libraries in the Chicagoland area; they are all linked by computer and lend books to any branch, if requested. I can go online, search for a book, ask for it, and it is sent to my local library. It's a great help when I'm researching something or unable to locate a book in my town library. But, I still prefer to search the shelves on my own. Everyone in my family knows I could spend entire days inside a library. And there isn't a city I visit that I don't look for a library to explore, from the Library of Congress in D.C. to the smallest little book repository in a tiny hamlet somewhere.
Of course, I love bookstores, too, but access to a library is like finding a pot of gold for me. All those books, and I don't have to pay for any of them! Our daughter and son, their mates and children have acquired this same reverence for books and reading, and that gives me such satisfaction. I know they will never want for a way to escape into other worlds, to take journeys through pages that they might never take in real life, and have the ability to enrich their minds and build their dreams.
There is talk these days that electronic books and their like will mean the death knell to the printed page. I don't believe it. Because for so many like me, there is a special magic in reading a book you've spent time choosing from a library that has no equal. Besides, there are printed documents that are hundreds of years old, and we already know that electronic reproductions will deteriorate fairly rapidly. But, logical arguments aside, you'll never get me to read a book on a computer screen or a handheld device. Give me the smell of the ink, the paper, the binding. Let me escape at my leisure in a comfortable chair by the fire, or a relaxing deck chair in the shade of a tree, or propped up on pillows in bed before sleep overtakes me. That is the joy of the written word, and one of my favorite vices.
The first library I remember was in the small town of Maitland, Florida, in the mid-1950's. The building had once been a large one-story house, and the steps up to the double doors always signalled a new adventure for me. I would ride my bike there and spend hours exploring the stacks. For several weeks one year, I was allowed to volunteer there to help with various chores, including replacing books on the shelves, so that I could earn a Girl Scout badge. It was then that I learned the Dewey Decimal System for categorizing and filing books by subject. Thirty years later, I would return to that library with our children. Maitland was now a suburb of Orlando, and where we lived for nearly 20 years. The library building had been added to, there were lots more books to peruse and borrow, but every time I walked into the "old" part of the library, all those girlhood memories flooded back. And I loved the connection that our family had to that place.
Currently, I have a card that allows me access to all the libraries in the Chicagoland area; they are all linked by computer and lend books to any branch, if requested. I can go online, search for a book, ask for it, and it is sent to my local library. It's a great help when I'm researching something or unable to locate a book in my town library. But, I still prefer to search the shelves on my own. Everyone in my family knows I could spend entire days inside a library. And there isn't a city I visit that I don't look for a library to explore, from the Library of Congress in D.C. to the smallest little book repository in a tiny hamlet somewhere.
Of course, I love bookstores, too, but access to a library is like finding a pot of gold for me. All those books, and I don't have to pay for any of them! Our daughter and son, their mates and children have acquired this same reverence for books and reading, and that gives me such satisfaction. I know they will never want for a way to escape into other worlds, to take journeys through pages that they might never take in real life, and have the ability to enrich their minds and build their dreams.
There is talk these days that electronic books and their like will mean the death knell to the printed page. I don't believe it. Because for so many like me, there is a special magic in reading a book you've spent time choosing from a library that has no equal. Besides, there are printed documents that are hundreds of years old, and we already know that electronic reproductions will deteriorate fairly rapidly. But, logical arguments aside, you'll never get me to read a book on a computer screen or a handheld device. Give me the smell of the ink, the paper, the binding. Let me escape at my leisure in a comfortable chair by the fire, or a relaxing deck chair in the shade of a tree, or propped up on pillows in bed before sleep overtakes me. That is the joy of the written word, and one of my favorite vices.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Days Slip Away
To those who read my musings, I must apologize again. The days of summer are nearing an end, and I've been remiss in writing my blog. I'm sad about that, on one hand, because I have lots of ideas for posts, but, on the other hand, I'm pleased that my writing time is being devoted to my book just now. I'm hoping that when it's finished - and published (please, please!) - that you all will read it and appreciate the time I devoted to it.
It isn't just the actual work on the novel that is keeping me busy; it's the research. And what could I have to research for a fictional story that takes place in present day? I read. I read other novelists whose work I admire to reflect on how they engage a reader, and how I could apply that to my own writing. I read nonfiction, about people or events that interest me because some of their personality traits can be woven into my characters, and incidents that intrigue me can be re-arranged and possibly used in my work. Lastly, I watch and I listen. I watch good movies to pick up on great characters and decipher what makes them great, and I listen to the snappy dialogue, or the dramatic dialogue, or the romantice dialogue. And, wherever I am, I watch, listen and learn as I study other people and their situations. All of this time is well spent because it spurs my imagination and improves the words I put to paper.
So, I'm back to it now. I have a few stolen moments before my grandson, Fletch, awakes from his nap or the phone rings or my husband comes home from his teaching duties. And, late tonight, I'll be back at the keyboard, when I can work undisturbed - and, hopefully, make some progress on my novel. And don't worry, I won't desert my blog for too much longer. I may even take a few moments, as I did today, to keep you updated on my progress.
It isn't just the actual work on the novel that is keeping me busy; it's the research. And what could I have to research for a fictional story that takes place in present day? I read. I read other novelists whose work I admire to reflect on how they engage a reader, and how I could apply that to my own writing. I read nonfiction, about people or events that interest me because some of their personality traits can be woven into my characters, and incidents that intrigue me can be re-arranged and possibly used in my work. Lastly, I watch and I listen. I watch good movies to pick up on great characters and decipher what makes them great, and I listen to the snappy dialogue, or the dramatic dialogue, or the romantice dialogue. And, wherever I am, I watch, listen and learn as I study other people and their situations. All of this time is well spent because it spurs my imagination and improves the words I put to paper.
So, I'm back to it now. I have a few stolen moments before my grandson, Fletch, awakes from his nap or the phone rings or my husband comes home from his teaching duties. And, late tonight, I'll be back at the keyboard, when I can work undisturbed - and, hopefully, make some progress on my novel. And don't worry, I won't desert my blog for too much longer. I may even take a few moments, as I did today, to keep you updated on my progress.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Wedding Thoughts
My best friend's son got married this past weekend and we were among the lucky invitees. Why lucky? Well, not just because I remember when this young man (now 22) was born or that his mother and I share a special connection so I wanted to be part of this special day, but more importantly, the event included all of the moments I cherish about a wedding while avoiding the phony excesses that seem to permeate the wedding industry in recent years.
The couple exchanged vows in a picturesque chapel, the service included music that spoke to the 100 or so guests in an intimate way because it reflected the personalities of the bride and groom, the wedding party was formally dressed but their apparel spoke to the overall theme of the wedding rather than trying to impress, and the flowers were daisies, evoking special memories for the bride and her family. The entire ceremony took only a few minutes but created a lifelong image for those in attendance.
The reception was a relaxed, happy affair with simple, delicious food, served buffet style, just enough champagne and drink to toast the occasion, recorded music for dancing; all evoking several hours of celebration, laughter and memory creation for all. The tables were personally decorated by the families of the bridal couple and the favors for the guests were packets of daisy seeds to plant and remember the day by. Most importantly, everything we experienced and enjoyed was memorable because it spoke to me, especially, of these two caring families who gathered to mark the occasion by giving of themselves to its end.
I saw no ostentatious extravagance, and I loved that. I was reminded of my own children's weddings, which were also gay, personal and unforgettable - as was mine way back when - and I found myself wondering why there are so many who feel they have to mortgage their lives to put on a phony show on a day when all that matters is sincerely pledging your lives to one another at the altar, and celebrating that exchange with family and friends in a fun, relaxed way. Why do couples feel the need for dresses that cost as much as my first house, floral masterpieces that cover every open space, lavish parties that create indebtedness for years to come, and which include overly expensive favors for the guests and food and beverages fancy enough for royalty? I've attended such gatherings, but, to be honest, I don't remember the details. They just spoke to me of overkill and indulgence for no reason.
So I toast to Kyle and Bev, the honored and most loved couple of last Saturday's happy tidings. They did it beautifully, they did it right, and they gave us all lasting reminders of their unique and most special of days.
The couple exchanged vows in a picturesque chapel, the service included music that spoke to the 100 or so guests in an intimate way because it reflected the personalities of the bride and groom, the wedding party was formally dressed but their apparel spoke to the overall theme of the wedding rather than trying to impress, and the flowers were daisies, evoking special memories for the bride and her family. The entire ceremony took only a few minutes but created a lifelong image for those in attendance.
The reception was a relaxed, happy affair with simple, delicious food, served buffet style, just enough champagne and drink to toast the occasion, recorded music for dancing; all evoking several hours of celebration, laughter and memory creation for all. The tables were personally decorated by the families of the bridal couple and the favors for the guests were packets of daisy seeds to plant and remember the day by. Most importantly, everything we experienced and enjoyed was memorable because it spoke to me, especially, of these two caring families who gathered to mark the occasion by giving of themselves to its end.
I saw no ostentatious extravagance, and I loved that. I was reminded of my own children's weddings, which were also gay, personal and unforgettable - as was mine way back when - and I found myself wondering why there are so many who feel they have to mortgage their lives to put on a phony show on a day when all that matters is sincerely pledging your lives to one another at the altar, and celebrating that exchange with family and friends in a fun, relaxed way. Why do couples feel the need for dresses that cost as much as my first house, floral masterpieces that cover every open space, lavish parties that create indebtedness for years to come, and which include overly expensive favors for the guests and food and beverages fancy enough for royalty? I've attended such gatherings, but, to be honest, I don't remember the details. They just spoke to me of overkill and indulgence for no reason.
So I toast to Kyle and Bev, the honored and most loved couple of last Saturday's happy tidings. They did it beautifully, they did it right, and they gave us all lasting reminders of their unique and most special of days.
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