The Wedding

Full weekends of memory-intense time are really REALLY hard to get down on paper very well. I really should have been taking notes, but of course didn’t have time (or paper) to do so.

It’s probably a stretch to say that being a bridesmaid is performing a public duty. I don’t think they regularly save lives or clean streets or anything. But, you serve a purpose, and that’s tangible. Once people at the airport knew I was carrying a bridesmaid’s dress, they got *instantly* friendlier. Everyone knows and understands what you do—diametrically opposed to what it’s like to being a grad student. But taking on that role, introducing myself as one of the bridesmaids, helping Alice with anything I could, moving to the dance floor as a group of identically dressed ladies . . . it felt good and helpful. Purposeful. “I’m another part of your army” I told Alice. “Put me to work!”

Now, I’ve been a bridesmaid before. Last time, I was 19 and my 17-year-old roommate at Hiram was getting married. She was practically running the thing solo. Her family wasn’t really into it, and so she had me and two or three other friends my age to help with someonething none of us had experience doing. It was lonely, really. Now, with Alice’s wedding the bridal party was pretty much all the same age (mid twenties), and the great thing was that we were this huge force of funny, responsible, energetic people and family members helping our Alice get it done. It was FUN. Crazy of course, with about five million things to remember to do, but it was exciting and dreamy. That was the great thing.

The weird thing was that recurring sense that we were, to a certain extent, flying solo. It’s this giddy but scary feeling that I guess heralds in the mid to late twenties, where you begin to realize that you are no longer younger than grown-ups. You ARE a grownup, albeit a young one. I remember going to weddings when I was younger and looking up to the bridesmaids and groomsmen and bride and groom and thinking how adult they were, and how long it would be until I was there age. And without warning, here I am. It’s like the first time I swam without my floaties: I just jumped in and did it before I even realized I’d left them back by my towel. Being at an age where MY close friends have gotten married and have kids. . . . being able to sit at a table of adults and hold a charming conversation and appear smart and interesting and calm. . . feeling responsible for people, having wisdom to share. . . not fearing snobs and gossip and “what other people think” as much. . . it’s all so good but just a little scary at the same time.

I’m not going to give you a rundown of the wedding in full. For one thing, I’ve already gone through that with mom, who asked “Now Amber, are you taking notes?” Which of course I always have. I’m a girl, and I do really like weddings, and hope that someday I’ll have one as nice as this one was. I could say the wedding was a complete success because of the weather, or maybe the live Motown band and open bar, or the beautiful locations that were all near one another. But really, what made it great was that Alice and Dan have surrounded themselves with wonderful people, and Alice and Dan were the common thread that brought us all together. I loved all the bridesmaids—we had a great time and got to know eachother better, though not nearly well enough. My hair was fantastic, I looked damn fine in my dress, and I had guys chatting me up for good portions of the evening—always nice for the ego, although I continued to wish that Andy was there so we could go dance and dance to all that great music.

It was just a fantastic wedding and weekend, where pretty much all things went as planned or nearly so, and two people who have been in love since 16 got hitched. It was Beeeeeautiful. And I still love my Alice dearly, and hope to see her again—but for the meantime I hope they are having a fantastic honeymoon!

As for ME, I spent all Sunday afternoon napping at Andy’s while he worked on the prelim, and that was exactly what I wanted. Now I’ve gotta buckle down—holiday season is coming up. . . And I should really try to catch my bus.