Now that
it’s summer--the traditional wedding season--I find myself wondering each
weekend about all the brave souls who’ll be tying the proverbial knot, for
better or worse. I always hope the sun will shine, literally and figuratively,
on these happy couples whom I don’t even know.
Of course if
I do know them I’m even more invested in the weather, especially if I’m going to
their wedding. Sure, I hope their special day is superlative, but a small part
of me longs for just a touch of drama to add to the happily-ever-after ambiance.
The sole exception to this sentiment is if either the bride or groom shares my
DNA.
I went to a lovely
wedding recently in Nantucket. The setting on the deck of the Dreamland Theater
overlooking the sailboat-studded harbor was picture perfect. The whole affair, soup to nuts, seemed to go
off without a hitch (pardon the pun). The truth was, prior to the big day the
bride’s divorced parents bickered non-stop, and she herself insisted on
changing the venue three weeks out. The only obvious glitch occurred when the
minister proclaimed, “I now pronounce you Mr. and M…” whereupon he stopped short,
having caught the bride’s unmistakable glare. She was, evidently, keeping her
surname. “Oops, I guess I should have
checked on this earlier,” he admitted as the guests chuckled in sympathy.
I had a full 16 months to fret over the forecast
for my daughter’s outdoor ceremony on the Maine coast. Weather.com tortured me
every day for two weeks with a different meteorological prediction for
September 12. Not content to leave such a crucial factor to chance, I took a
page from my former colleague’s wedding playbook. Her son and daughter each
exchanged vows under clear, 70-degree skies—in March and November. So two
nights before my child’s nuptials, I dutifully hung the borrowed string of
rosary beads on my patio and said a quick prayer. Another equally superstitious librarian here recently
did the same. The success rate so far is 100 percent.
All weddings
are wonderful in their own way. I’ve probably been to a dozen in the last
couple of years, with four more on the calendar. They’re so full of joy, of promise,
of fabulous food and drink. My weakness is the passed hors d’oeuvres. You know,
the mini seafood rolls, the tenderloin on toast, the bacon-wrapped anything. I count
on others being so busy munching and mingling that they don’t notice the
frequency with which I tackle the servers as they emerge from the kitchen.
I enjoy
weddings vicariously as well. Another coworker told me she was glad she remembered
to put her Swiss Army Knife in her purse as she dressed for her best friend’s
wedding. It came in quite handy for detaching the bride’s blusher veil, which remained
stubbornly attached to the headpiece after the ceremony. I can just picture my
colleague whipping out her trusty knife prior to the photo shoot to save the
day. This woman takes her bridesmaid role seriously. You might want to think
twice, however, before including her in your wedding party. The couples in
nearly every wedding she’s been in have parted company, and all but one of her
bridesmaids’ marriages has gone belly up.
While I might
welcome a little comic relief on occasion, I wouldn’t go so far as to wish this
next scenario on anyone. My sister’s friend saw on TV that a fire had broken
out at a popular wedding venue overlooking the Connecticut River. Anticipating
her own daughter’s happy day in two months’ time, she tried to imagine the
horror of discovering your dream wedding had, um, gone up in smoke. She didn’t have to imagine for long; the smoldering
castle was their wedding venue as well.
Even if
you’re not planning on taking the plunge yourself, you can get in the spirit by
checking out any of a dozen DVDs at the Norwood Library: “The Wedding Singer,” “The
Wedding Planner, “Margot at the Wedding,” “My Best Friend’s Wedding,” “Four
Weddings and a Funeral,” “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” (1 & 2), and my
personal favorite, “Wedding Crashers” (“Maaaaa!” “What is she doing back there? I never know what
she’s doing”). No list, of course, would
be complete without including “Bridesmaids” or “The Hangover.”
If you’re seeking
more than mere entertainment, browse the 392 section for practical advice on wedding
planning. The library has something for everyone, from “Groomology—What Every
(Smart) Groom Needs to Know Before the Wedding” and “Green Weddings—Planning
Your Eco-Friendly Celebration” to the lavishly illustrated “The Knot: Outdoor
Weddings,” chock full of “fresh ideas for events in gardens, vineyards,
beaches, mountains, and more.”
Three books on
the shelf all but ambushed me. Even if you’re not a southern lady from the
Mississippi Delta, as are authors Gayden Metcalfe and Charlotte Hays, how can
you resist at least skimming through the hilarious “Somebody is Going to Die if
Lilly Beth Doesn’t Catch that Bouquet.” For another humorous—and sometimes
poignant—pick, check out Jenn Doll’s “Save the Date.” The subtitle, “the
occasional mortifications of a serial wedding guest,” says it all. The one that
really spoke to me, however, was “It’s Her Wedding but I’ll Cry if I Want To”
by Leslie Milk. I wish I’d seen this one two years ago.
Sadly, my
own marriage did not endure but hope springs eternal, as the saying goes. My current
love and I have known each other for over 30 years and have been together somewhat less than half that. Our exes are happily remarried—not to each other.
Obviously,
we’re hesitant to rush headlong into anything. But if and when we do say “I do”
for the second time, two things are certain: I know who I won’t be asking to be a bridesmaid, and as soon as the date is set,
I’m putting another reserve on those rosary beads.
