25/ Wedding
Admirably wheel chair assisted through airport checkpoints, equipped with
doctors’ permission, a few weekends ago, I attended a family reunion in
England. The occasion was the
wedding of a nephew. Generations
of relatives were present, some of whom previously had been only names to me,
as I to them. Facial resemblances
were remarkably easy to trace through the ages. So many variations on a theme.
The marriage ceremony was a glorious, sunny affair with a breeze just gusting
enough to cause the unwary to grab at their hats – marvelous creations – to
clamp them more firmly on their heads. The wedding reception was held in my
nephew’s boatyard constructed out of his own sweat and vision on a wedge of
meadow land beside the Grand Union Canal.
With the dedicated love of a craftsman, there he builds and restores
wooden narrow boats.
For this grand occasion the yard had been converted into a country
show ground with bales of straw, festoon lights, and traditional, fairground
games each with its own tastefully, hand painted sign. One of the oldest barges
on site served as fitting backdrop for the wedding bands that joyously belted
out a meld of nostalgia and current pop. Boogie for all. The wedding was a celebration of work accomplished
so far. A pause for breath. A harvest home.
More than that – studiously ignoring Dr. Pangloss and Polyanna both - for
me the wedding seemed, also, to enable for one delightful day a marriage
of minds of good intent; the mutual
well wishing and warm heartedness of a group of quite disparate people - age, background, life experiences. An unconscious (perhaps), generous, reciprocated
acceptance. No sly looks, barbed
comments. This wedding was a
veritable communion.
With all my heart I wish the married couple and their enterprise well.
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