Heidi and Joe were married. Below is something I wrote that night after the wedding for my friends who live out of town. I would love to go back and live that evening all over again….
Last night at the rehearsal Julia was crying at one point and not very cooperative generally. Give me a break. In the car afterward I told her: “I paid $150 for that dress and this is Heidi’s wedding. Tomorrow there will be no crying, you got it? You will smile and be nice.” She said okay.
The wedding was absolutely lovely, very simple, elegant. Our pastor who has known Heidi since she was a little girl did the service, and he did a beautiful job. His astute sermon was short, funny and insightful, about the difference between attachment and commitment and the whole point of trust. They have no wedding coordinator, so he coached and smoothed the details heading into church, for which I was grateful.
Then we went to the reception and had a blast. Heidi had colors of eggplant for the dresses and orange, red, and yellow flowers. She grew the gourds in her garden for table decorations. It was so pretty! The purple napkins with the fall decorations…. The meal was delicious, and those kids danced and danced and danced, hokey pokey, the electric slide, rap and country and rock and roll.
Lori’s daughter was there. She and I have not talked very often since Lori died—a couple times a year maybe? But I send her care packages every now and then: spray cheese, Little Debbie, bath gel, holiday window clings. She told me how much those boxes in the mail have meant to her, how jealous her roommates were, and excited to open the boxes. Very gratifying. I thought maybe she thought I was corny and lame, but no. She felt loved and thought about, which was the whole point. I’ve been sending boxes at intervals for 5 years, and didn’t know she even liked them. In the parking lot in the dark, arms wrapped tight around each other, there were tears about her mother, and happiness about the future.
The kids are done in the shower now, all the sweaty dancers, little bridesmaids with their hair full of hairspray. Little Jay needed a shower after that kind of dancing and James also. James is rapidly approaching him in height, which scares me a little. To cop a phrase from Little Jay, “not gonna lie.” James. My gopher cheeked, quiet, good natured baby—is taller than me and has to shave his little shadow of moustache these days. Heidi’s wedding was wonderful. We’re babysitting John’s dog tonight and the grand-dog is on my pillow, gazing at Jay. She’s already shit on my rug once, God bless her. I’ll send wedding pictures tomorrow. Love, Val
