Wednesday, August 21, 2013

This is Love

     Every day I feel the big and small indignities of aging.  Off the top of my head, there's my bad memory, my graying hair and my new wrinkles.  And I haven't even gone below my neck--my neck!  But on Saturday night, I forgot all about my decline to enjoy one thing that gets better as I get older: weddings.
     My cousin's daughter is getting married to a young man we all adore. My aunt, uncle and cousins are the stars of the day---people I love deeply.  The bride is named after my beloved grandfather, who died several years before she was born.  To her wedding, I wear the diamond ring he gave to my grandmother. It is important to me that a piece of her sparkle is in attendance.
     When I got married, I thought weddings were about young people falling in love, and their future.  But now that I'm well into middle age, I've changed my point of view.  Now I experience a wedding through the eyes of a parent.
      I know what it is to raise a child.  It is not for sissies.
     There are the ear infections, and chicken pox, and orthodontist appointments, and dozens of flus and trips to the ER.  There are bad teachers, and failed tests, and long division and tutors and ACTs and college visits.  There are lessons, and overnight camps and sitting on the bench and being cut from the team.  There are drivers license tests, and homecoming dances, and recitals, and travel tournaments, and phone calls after curfew.
     And did I mention college tuition?
     Doing the hard work of raising children can bring you to your knees.  Seeing them walk down the aisle on their wedding day is a moment of grace.
     There is an old Yiddish proverb, When the heart is full, the eyes overflow.
     The groom smashes the glass, and our family has officially grown by one more.
     Now it is my job to eat every passed hors d'oeuvre and make a mental note of each relative's outfit for conversations that will take place over the next days and weeks and months and years.  Because when anyone asks, "Did you try the potato latkes with lox?" I definitely want to say, "YES!"
     Soon the band is playing Motown which attracts all ages to the dance floor.  The grandparents get out there and shake what God gave them, which has become easier since everything shakes.  After a few songs the grandparents need water.  It's time for us fiftysomethings to show off our moves, until our backs and knees and feet start to ache, and the music passes us by and our children take over the dance floor and are jumping up and down to songs we don't know.
     When it is time for the father daughter dance, my cousin and his radiant girl begin in the traditional way.  But after a minute, the music changes, and suddenly they are doing the choreographed moves to Michael Jackson's Thriller.  I recall my cousin as being kind of a reserved dancer, but he has clearly practiced A LOT, and he is nailing it.  There is only one person who could convince him to do this, and she is right by his side.
    While everyone is laughing and clapping and cheering, my eyes overflow. This, I think to myself, this is love.

   
   

4 comments:

  1. Beautiful writing, thank you for sharing. I will be the mother of the bride next summer.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Congratulations, Molly! I wish you every happiness. Thanks so much for reading and commenting!

    ReplyDelete