Let me preface this by saying that I have attended, served at, and sung in an absurd amount of wedding celebrations. Between waitressing at my parents’ banquet facility and church cantoring I have been witness to at least part of literally hundreds of weddings. I have also been a guest many times, as well as flower girl and junior bridesmaid. I have attended dozens of weddings for family members and my parents’ large roster of family friends. A few years ago I entered a phase where it was obvious that I was not at the top of the wedding guest list, but rather, I had been invited mostly to sing. While I don’t always mind being the entertainment I have since invented a little game called “Drink until they are interesting”. At one such celebration where I was singing but knew hardly any of the guests, I was seated at a table of 30-something strangers. The gentleman next to me told me that he worked for Atkins but gave me his permission to eat bread because it was “a wedding and all”. After unabashedly chewing down the rest of my roll, I decided that every time someone said something uninteresting I would take a sip of my wine. By the end of the night I was shit-faced.
But this particular affair was different. Aside from the nuptials having all the things I love and none of the things I hate in a wedding, (no head table, no garter toss, no electric slide, etc.), this was the first time I attended such a close friend’s wedding. Emma and I have been friends for 20 years.
Having a large to-do list last week was preventing me from truly mentally registering the fact that Emma was becoming Sadie, Sadie Married Lady. I had to pour over my Dvorak score for rehearsals that started this week, take my car to the shop and various other errands. So with a basic level of Czech-singing proficiency I got in the car and Brendan and I declared that we had “done all the things!” (see: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/) and headed down to CT. After several hurried visits with family and friends and the rehearsal dinner on Friday, followed by preoccupation with leaving the boyfriend with my parents for so many hours, on Saturday I headed to the hotel salon for my hair appointment with the bridal party followed by makeup and general beautification. Then, even though I had been with my friends and the bride for six hours, it seemed that I blinked and everything was happening. With all the focus on preparation and seeing the location for the first time, I had forgotten about the spiritual side of the event. I completely forgot to register that Emma was going to be a wife and have a husband!
Suddenly we were dressed and sitting in a room witnessing the signing of the Ketubah. With the exception of one of Emma’s sisters-in-law, I was the only gentile bridesmaid. Growing up in my town in CT, this is completely normal territory for me, but I was not expecting the flood of emotion that would ensue during this ritual, which I had never been privy to, when I had thought we would have more free time before the actual ceremony. And then my friends told me “Wait until the lowering of the veil”. They were right. The rabbi quoted a few Biblical references on the significance of the veil. The heavy Biblical connotations conjured up solemn images of nervous Old World brides in candlelit synagogues leaving the homes of their parents. This combined with the sweetness with which Adam aggressively fumbled with his intended’s veil proved to be too much for me. My friend Erica said to Brendan at the reception: “Did Katie tell you she was crying during the Jewish ceremony?”
All in all though, the public ceremony was a beautiful scene too. It was on the water with a pink sky overhead. I even remembered all of the words to the verses of “Crazy Love” by Van Morrison for the first dance. This was one wedding at which I was more than happy to sing. There was an outpouring of several toasts, hours of dancing and an ice cream sundae bar. For his patience with all of us high school buddies Brendan was universally acknowledged as a “mensch”. This shiksa was all verklempt.
Having a large to-do list last week was preventing me from truly mentally registering the fact that Emma was becoming Sadie, Sadie Married Lady. I had to pour over my Dvorak score for rehearsals that started this week, take my car to the shop and various other errands. So with a basic level of Czech-singing proficiency I got in the car and Brendan and I declared that we had “done all the things!” (see: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/) and headed down to CT. After several hurried visits with family and friends and the rehearsal dinner on Friday, followed by preoccupation with leaving the boyfriend with my parents for so many hours, on Saturday I headed to the hotel salon for my hair appointment with the bridal party followed by makeup and general beautification. Then, even though I had been with my friends and the bride for six hours, it seemed that I blinked and everything was happening. With all the focus on preparation and seeing the location for the first time, I had forgotten about the spiritual side of the event. I completely forgot to register that Emma was going to be a wife and have a husband!
Suddenly we were dressed and sitting in a room witnessing the signing of the Ketubah. With the exception of one of Emma’s sisters-in-law, I was the only gentile bridesmaid. Growing up in my town in CT, this is completely normal territory for me, but I was not expecting the flood of emotion that would ensue during this ritual, which I had never been privy to, when I had thought we would have more free time before the actual ceremony. And then my friends told me “Wait until the lowering of the veil”. They were right. The rabbi quoted a few Biblical references on the significance of the veil. The heavy Biblical connotations conjured up solemn images of nervous Old World brides in candlelit synagogues leaving the homes of their parents. This combined with the sweetness with which Adam aggressively fumbled with his intended’s veil proved to be too much for me. My friend Erica said to Brendan at the reception: “Did Katie tell you she was crying during the Jewish ceremony?”
All in all though, the public ceremony was a beautiful scene too. It was on the water with a pink sky overhead. I even remembered all of the words to the verses of “Crazy Love” by Van Morrison for the first dance. This was one wedding at which I was more than happy to sing. There was an outpouring of several toasts, hours of dancing and an ice cream sundae bar. For his patience with all of us high school buddies Brendan was universally acknowledged as a “mensch”. This shiksa was all verklempt.
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