Still, I'm glad I went. I held the bride when she was a newborn. Her big brother, whom I've known since he was in preschool, officiated. He's now a dad and his toddler son preceded the bride down the aisle. Seeing all that history parade past, being able to enjoy what lovely and productive adults they have grown into, was very moving.
The ceremony and reception were held at Salvage One, a repurposed vintage warehouse. In between the events I wandered, solo of course, around this unique and fascinating space. An age-appropriate man -- turns out he was the groom's uncle -- was shadowing me and finally we began chatting. Amiably. We talked about how the stuff we grew up with in the 1960s is now "vintage." The mother of the bride, my friend, spotted me and gestured me to join her. She wanted me to spend some time with her toddler grandson. As I moved away from the man I was talking to, he actually looked sad. Oh, my God! We'd been flirting! It's been so long since I hung around with a man who wasn't gay, married, or far too young for me that I didn't know what flirting looks like anymore.
Onto the reception. When I first settled in at my assigned table, I found myself seated beside and across from women I'd met at previous gatherings at the home of my friends (the bride's parents). Everything was going well until the music started. It made it difficult to converse with anyone but the person immediately beside you. Gulp. The person to my left was another age-appropriate single man. (Who knew there would be at least two at this wedding?) He was a "third wheel," there with his adult children, who grew up with the bride. When we introduced ourselves, I extended my hand because I'm used to shaking hands with new people. He held mine a little too long, making me uncomfortable. Oh, here's that flirting thing again! He and his twenty-somethings came in from New York, and while they were clearly into college football (and seemed to have money on some games), he was still a New Yorker, so I asked him if he was aware of the baseball games going on this weekend at Wrigley Field (see post below). Then I couldn't wait for the food to arrive because I just didn't feel like doing the hetero man-woman thing.
First of all, while obviously there was something attractive about me in my coral knit pantsuit with the mesh bell sleeves, I feel (and am) very fat. Second, it's been a very long time since I kissed or even danced with a man and I just didn't feel like giving it a try with either of the available candidates.
So after dinner -- and after observing the bride and groom's first dance, as well as hers with her dad and his with his mom -- I ducked out. I'm glad I went but I was also more than ready to get home.
Sunday morning I awoke to a text from my friend, the mother of the bride. She said she was sorry she didn't have a chance to hug me before I left because she was "grateful for the positive influence" I have always been on her kids. Wasn't that lovely?
Photo by Nick Karvounis on Unsplash
That text is something to treasure.
ReplyDelete