Wedding stuff

Musee des Beaux Arts
W.H. Auden

About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.


There's always such a letdown after a party. Weddings are no exception. The ceremony was a blur for me--I remember waiting up in the little room with the other women, being forbidden to touch hair or makeup, and being fetched by Nan. Walking in, very slowly and not too steadily, in my cute slippery copper shoes with the sparkles. Standing at the altar for the vows. Sitting for the readings. Standing to hear Meema read the Gospel. Smiling from ear to ear, and I couldn't see Mom but I saw Tom's face... They will be happy. Sitting up straight, trying to figure out where to set my bouquet. Watching my aunt go up and bless the bread and wine. It's strange, how she slips between "aunt" and "priest" in my mind. They're distinct roles. Taking communion, trying to keep my feet out of the aisle. Realizing that they really were vowing to love each other forever. Slipping out afterwards through the side, going to the recieving line. Hugging Tom and telling him he's my stepdad now. Shaking hands with a million and one people. Barely eating. Going to change out of those blasted shoes. Chatting with Misa, whom I haven't seen in a year and a half. Talking, talking, trying not to look too horribly exhausted. Getting Becky to take photos of me and Ray smooching. Big extended family photo on the steps. With all the "steps" and "exes". Going in to clean up, waltzing with Ray (trying to, at least), being driven home by Louis. A warning from Louis to Ray, telling him not to get too fresh with me. We laughed. I don't think he figured it out. :) Listening to Uncle Bobby tell about his exploits. Taking Mom and Tom to the hotel. Getting a smidge lost on the way home. Collapsing in bed.

Before: The hair, the makeup, the dress. The photos. I want some--I know I looked great... it was so much, and it passed in a blur. My mother was beautiful. You could tell she was happy. I love her.

And this morning, Meema and Aunt Delia to the airport, hurry back for church. And here the work begins. I have the lab, I have a chem quiz, I have a senior story to write. At least I have friends coming over... I'm on my own right now. Ray's off somewhere, and everyone else is a good thousand miles away by now. Or at least a few hundred.

And then youth group this afternoon, and I have to go, since we're discussing graduation speeches. Aie.