Day 168*-- A wedding 5 years late

Mmm.  Barbecue chips for breakfast.  I always seem to forget that when I move into a new house I need to buy groceries.  I had chips for dinner and no water in like 18 hours.  I'll get some sustenance once this post is over.  

I know that today is the 23rd, but I still want to write about the wedding that happened on the 19th--the whole reason I went up to the Bay this weekend.  I'm going to label this as Day 168 for this reason.

....

Let me start by saying that everyone in my family was against this wedding, including my grandma who said, "This is stupid" in the nicest way possible.  I only have one cousin (well, I have more, but I don't talk to that side of the family anymore), so it was a requirement to go to this thing.  You see, my cousin is 36, we have nothing in common as he's a starch techy capitalist and sees me as a hippy socialist, and they've already been married for 5 years. Hey, I don't mind a wedding a little later, but 5 years later is pushing it.

Anyway, my cousin's wedding was set for 12pm at the church on his old San Jose campus.  My boyfriend and I got there early and I very much appreciated how attractive he is in a suit with a little scruff.  My mom arrived soon afterward with her earpiece phone glued to her ear as always.  She was with my elder aunts Auntie Em and Aunt Eleanor, who were sisters of  my grandpa and both are spinsters.  Em travels around the southwest with her church group and Eleanor is a bitter old woman who hates everyone.  

I saw my Aunt Gena, the reformed 1960s wild child now Tea Party-er who got high when she visited me in San Diego this September.  She was meeting someone at a car and I should have known better than to interrupt.  But I want to hug her.  That person in the car was her ex-husband from 30 years ago, the father of my cousin, and his new husband.  I had no idea he was gay and was thoroughly excited for them.  

 

We went into the church and saw my last aunt Weez, the younger one at 44 who works at Yahoo, sings at clubs on weekends, is skinny as a rail, and was looking hot in her new gray dress I want to steal.  Her husband the musician was in his jeans, a felt suit jacket, his cap, and his long wild hair.  My boyfriend and him get along well.  The husband of Gena, Uncle Bucky, was there looking sharp as ever in his expensive suit.  He's the same age as my grandma, a former lawyer, went to Harvard, was in WWII, and is active in the community as a Republican. 

I looked around the beautiful church with its candles, painting, dark wood pews, and I missed God.  For the first time in years I blessed myself with holy water.  I don't believe in it, but it felt nice anyway.

My grandma showed up and started crying for about 4 seconds before she laughed, smiled, and started crying again.  I love that women.

We sat down and waiting for the ceremony to begin.  There was supposed to be 200 people attending this wedding but only about 100-125 people showed up.  Perhaps they too thought that the weekend before Thanksgiving wasn't the top option to go to a wedding 5 years too late.

When I saw that the bride was wearing a white dress, Miranda from Sex and the City popped into my mind.  If you're wearing a white dress after being a wife for half a decade, "the jig is up." But once "Ava Maria" starting playing tears came to my eyes and my cynicism melted.  She was beautiful.  

They looked truly happy together and maybe the whole wedding after being married thing has some truth to it.  Maybe there is something special about making a vow to something knowing full well that yes, this will work because we've already make it work this far.

I couldn't help but laugh though when the priest was discussing how divorce was a sin.  In our two tiny rows that made up our family: The groom's mom was on her second marriage to a great man who was always on his second marriage, then there was my grandma was was married for 55 years, then there was the groom's dad who's now married to a gay man, then there was my Aunt Weez and her husband both on their second marriages, then there was my mom who's on her second marriage to my step-dad who's on his second marriage with my mom, then there was my two elder aunts who've never been married, and lastly my boyfriend and I who've been together for 5 years with no plans of getting married.

I believe in marriage, but I also believe in divorce.  I've seen too many happy second marriages to not believe in divorce.  But I also believe in what marriage should be--a union and a partnership for life.

The wedding ended and my boyfriend and I took off to get my favorite food in San Jose: Happi House.  Fucking love that place.  We talked about the wedding and idea of marriage on the way there, and he agreed that maybe a wedding 5 years late is the way to do it.

The reception was at 4pm.  There was some chaos getting there and how bizzarely far away it was and blah blah blah but soon enough we got there.  I had a great time.  I danced with my mom, my musician aunt and uncle performed a bluesy version of "At Last", he danced with my grandma, and my boyfriend and I danced together.  

I have to say that my boyfriend was wonderful all night.  He was so charming and relaxed and made an effort to talk to every member of my family.  I realized then what my dad meant to my family and the hole that was left after his death.  My dad was the funny one, the one that pointed out the obvious and could make everyone a little more comfortable.  I missed him.  

While my boyfriend and my dad aren't exactly similar there is a slight pattern I'm seeing.  My dad was my mom's fun energy, the person who pushed her to go camping instead of working, the one who liked to drink and be merry, and was her bridge to a more social world.  But he wasn't responsible and later in life he wasn't nice.  My boyfriend is the one leading the discussion, the social smoker, the lover and romantic, the overall good soul.  But he's not responsible and sure as fuck hasn't been nice lately.  In seeing him at the wedding I missed him too.  I missed where we were at just two months ago when it was about going for walks and sex and cooking and pushing each other's careers.  Maybe we can get back there.

I'm so so glad he came up with me for the wedding and the reception.  I even liked when he poked fun at me when we were slow dancing because I don't know how.  I teased him that he'd have to take me out more often.  He smirked and kissed me.  Sometimes weddings bring out the worst in people and sometimes they bring out the best.

And so the night ended.  With the boyfriend's urging I stole a bedazzled salt and pepper shaker set for my grandma (she loved them when I gave them to her the next morning), and I made sure to hug each of my family members before driving home.  We're not much of a family but in that night we were.  I may not have believed in having a wedding 5 years late, but seeing that it brought my family together, made me believe in my relationship again, and made us all really happy for a night, I have to thank my cousin for his well-deserved delay.