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Written on 1/14/09
07/09/05: Dad and Frances' Wedding Day:
It's not often you get to attend your parent's wedding. I'm sure, not
more than 30 or 40 years ago, it was extremely uncommon compared with
"these days." It's an interesting experience. The mores of society can
sometimes give an "out-of-order" feeling to an experience like this.
Your'e not supposed to be born before your parent gets married, in the
traditional model of things. And yet, it is the very break from the
"normal" model that forces you to let go of norms and expectations and
tradition, and you are left with the feeling of being a part of
something new, different, less-charted, and it forces a feeling of
living in the moment that I came to enjoy over the course of the day.
And when you're in the moment, and out of your head, and not keeping
track of yourself, you can become more open to the joy of the event
itself. And it was, indeed, a joyful day.
When the four of us woke up, everything had changed from the night
before. The total darkness had given way to beautiful sunshine. The
field behind our hotel turned out to be waterside property, with
gorgeous views. Everything that had seemed seedy was beginning to seem
cute, and everything that was dingy was suddenly looking quaint. It was
like we awoke from some wonka-esque dream, following a bizzare journey,
and had ended up at a place, alltogether unexpected, but worthy to be a
journey's end.
We walked out of the back of our hotel room, in a sort of Dorothy-like
daze, and noticed that someone had switched the black and white film
with color. As we rubbed our eyes, we looked to the left, and saw....
Aunt Davida... looking forward to spending the day with us. We did too.
Lisa! Michelle?
The back of the hotel. Motel.
4 people getting ready at once. One bathroom. Rustic.
We all went to "town" for Breakfast with the Gopens (my Dad's sister's family).
Zach, the Photographer's apprentice, and Alex, the photographer's
daughter caught us crossing the street as they arrived in town.
After Breakfast, we drove a few more miles East, and found the end of
Long Island... the Montauk Lighthouse. I shclepped up those steps with
my grandparents when I was probably 8 or 9 or 10 years old.
Natalie patiently waits while I jump out of the car to take close-up photos of the big sign-map. I love sign-maps.
The place we were attending the wedding was at "Crane Creek" on the map.
We could see the inlet of the creek from the hill with the sign-map.
When we got back, some of France's and Dad's relatives were throwing a
football. It was a good omen for the amazingly chill atomosphere that
would pervade the entire day, which was as welcome as the light breeze
and the warm sunshine that greeted the day.
The guests emerge from their cocoons.
I got one leg up on the situation. (I coulnd't help it... it needed the caption).
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People began to congregate by the chairs. It was very organic. It was
like a very large group of people deciding, collectively and
effortlessly, which restaurant to go to for dinner, like a small group
of friends.
Peter and I were witnesses, so we got to sign the katubah.
The ceremony begins:
Light outdoor clapping always sounds funny.
Let's eat!
The tower-o-shrimp was a visual highlight.
Thanks for the bumper sticker! Ha!
Mints?
This was out the back of the restaurant.
A little later, Natalie and I snuck out the beachfront for a little break from the festivites.
Natalie, I have found, has an uncanny ability to spot living things that barely move. She showed me a few!
Later, back in the party, we saw Peter and David taking a lovely stroll.
The party simply continued, with no reason to rush. The sun slowly set.
Games were played. Night-time comfort food like burgers and franks were
lovingly grilled by some family members on the outdoor grills. It was
like adult wedding camp.
We had a lovely time and headed to bed as early as possible to prepare
for a 5am wake up to catch the first of only two scheduled trains back
to the city tomorrow.