Monday, April 20, 2009

Weddings and how they make one feel/reflect

Les voila, mes chaussures... Not my ideal choice, a bit too casual for a wedding maybe, and I was worried I wouldn't be able to dance in shoes that high. But I did like the four inchness of them and the way they disappeared on my feat so that my cute little strapless remained the main focus of my ensemble. And, thank goodness, I was indeed able to dance in them.

My dress (yes, that's teeny weenie me in four inch heels), I'm the one not dressed as a bride...

But I confess I didn't give as much thought to the wedding of my best childhood friend as I should have. I missed her bridal shower. I didn't start my dress and shoe search until days before the wedding. I even forgot to RSVP. The thing is, though we live only miles apart, we inhabit different circles. So while she was preparing for her wedding and living in the same place and going to the same job she's had for years and years I was going wherever the wind blew me, preparing for art exhibits, helping my sister with her 5 kids because her husband was in Afghanistan, looking for somewhere to take root.

So, watching she and her father walk down the aisle, I was unprepared for the intense emotions I began to feel and the tears I began to discreetly shed. What's this? Am I crying? Why am I crying? Why would I cry now, I wondered, when I didn't cry at my sister's wedding. Or at any of the weddings of my innumerable cousins. Moreover, she's been living with her new husband some five years now. What's the big deal? This is just a formality, a symbolic gesture.

Yes, but symbolic gestures are a big deal. They are potent, jam packed little concentrations of meaning. And even if one hasn't consciously considered it, some part of us has been busily calculating a specific meaning all our own.

Thus, watching my best childhood friend getting married, I began to cry (discreetly) and didn't stop crying until I got home late that night because:

1. I'm a sucker for romantic movies and Jane Austen novels and, through our many hours long conversations when she first started dating her husband to be, I witnessed her falling in love with this seemingly too good to be true person, this Darcy mixed in with Colonel Brandon, willing and hoping alongside her that this romance would endure and flourish especially after the messy break up she'd recently experienced. And here at long, long last was the happy conclusion to their courtship story, proof that true love and fairy tales do come true, a garden wedding in the gorgeous, green California hills, a conclusion so worth waiting for I cried.

2. We met when we were little kids, when I was best friends with someone else at the time, someone who refused to make friends with the new girl because no one else, but me, would either. And for a few strange weeks I found myself being fought over by two little girls, one popular, the other unfairly excluded and teased, until I chose the right one. The one who knew how to make a sad child laugh and how to bring a shy girl out of herself by tempting her into childish adventures. One who would share her lunch when my father (who was always either drunk or hungover) would forget to pack me anything or worried if he ever got more than verbally abusive when it didn't occur to anyone else in my big huge family to worry about me. We were each other's true friend, sister and advocate when we needed one most, when our real sisters pretended not to know us, and no matter how life takes us in different directions there is a bond between us that cannot be broken. And watching my soul sister and life long friend get married made me so happy I cried.
3. When my sister got married I was in my early twenties. I could wait. And then, one experience after another, some disappointing, some heartbreaking, some a relief to get away from, at some point I began to wonder if my turn hadn't come about yet because I might have been irrevocably warped by the denial of love in my earliest years. I did have the tendency to choose the wrong man who would then push me away. Or I would push the right man away because, no matter how wonderful he actually was, I still feared he was just like my dad. I also feared I was unlovable. But not anymore. Now I feel openhearted, whole. I feel ready. I feel like should another wonderful possibility walk into my life today I have the self assurance and courage it takes to dive in, eyes wide open. But at yet another person's wedding, someone who grew up with good, loving parents, I could not help but wonder, will I miss this experience because my father was an a--hole and my mother didn't know how to stand up for herself? God how unfair that would be. And so I cried.

4. I was not one of the bridal party. And though our differing schedules and priorities would have made it impracticable, the fact that I was sitting down witnessing her marriage instead of taking an active part in it only served to show the space that has grown between us. I wish she lived close enough to be part of my women's circle. She would have told the woman I consider difficult off a long time ago. I did once, oh hell yes I did, but it got me nowhere. She would have just chased the bitch off for good, niceties be damned. I miss my childhood friend. And so I cried.

25 comments:

  1. How beautiful. Touching. Wonderful. You are a good, good friend. Almost making ME cry and I don't even know your friend! sniff.

    Don't you worry 'bout #3. I never, ever, ever expected marriage. Not in a million, ga-zillion years. My pop was abusive and beat my ma within an inch of her life. Mom left when I was 4 or 5 and I grew up with a violent, angry man.

    K - so I did have some therapy which helped me make good choices and overcome the rough start ... but then?

    I found my husband. He is kind, funny, sensitive and we love each other to distraction. I never thought marriage would be so... so ... FUN. Wha?? Shocked the hell outta me. It'll be TEN years in September... who woulda ever thunk it.

    Nice post - lucky friend!

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  2. I loved to read this! ... and this kind of crying is just nice, isn't it?

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  3. Oh! Thanks Shanster! That does give me hope. I know I've overcome my past and am ready to move forward. And my sister, I remember, used to worry about not being a good parent after the examples we grew up with. But she just does whatever they didn't do and always tries her best. So I know the past does not doom me. But encouragement is always, always appreciated.

    Thanks Peter! It is the nice kind, you're right. I do love a good cry.

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  4. Cheryl... I have to let this sit for a while and return later to comment. This is some incredibly powerful, emotionally evokative stuff. It's not pretty when a six foot five man cries in public; in fact, it's downright scary to witness, and so I will let this simmer until I get home. I struggled to keep my composure just reading it.

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  5. What an open, honest, wonderful post. I'm as happy for you as I am for her.

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  6. Your post resonates so beautifully, Cheryl, and with such honesty. I think what you experienced will move you forward into such a positive space and, ultimately, to unfold the pure joy within you. All is well! x

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  7. Cheryl, thanks for stopping by. I like your post very much. I'm sure so many people can identify with what you have to say. I hope some day you can set your boundaries with that woman and tell her what's unacceptable. You deserve to be treated right. It can be very freeing to stand up for yourself after you get over that feeling of what have I done :D I'm glad though that you have hope and I know there are all kinds of possibilities out there for you!

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  8. Oh I felt so sad for you reading about your childhood - but look how lovely you turned out - and so petite as well. You've got a waist!

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  9. “…potent, jam packed concentrations of meaning…”

    How could I have known this line would signal the point of no return, the click clack of slow ascent , that I would not only witness your coaster ride, but be swept along to gasp for air in the high winds of my own psyche. I was as caught off guard as you were. And for what reason? Because we’ve known each other for ages? No, you were able to publicly explore a confusing knot, separating themes that are universal and yet buried by each for fear we are alone in the experience. For instance… 1)The regret of missed opportunities -- that as time passes, so do perceived opportunities. 2) The fear of being left behind and alone-- that as others move ahead, it stands to reason that we are being left behind 3)The perception of fatal flaws-- and perceiving perfection in others in their situations, when in reality we all have strengths and challenges, blessings and misfortunes, and that novels are scripted, but life has many uncertainties.

    These themes are stuffed deep by most. You explored them. And I, by reading, was able to securely explore my own in the comfort of knowing you were leading the way, and that I certainly was not alone. And so I cried.

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  10. Vickie - Oh, I did, I did tell her off and stand up for myself. But she wasn't able to hear a word I said being the sort of person who never listens. So she hasn't changed. And I won't tolerate her speaking about certain things. I won't talk to her about my career or my art anymore. But it would still be preferable if I just didn't have to deal with her at all.

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  11. David - It makes it so worth it to write knowing there's people who really get what I'm trying to say. I started to sense these emotions the week before the wedding but didn't attend to them because I had errands to run, things to do. And it wasn't until I wrote them out that I could see them for what they really were. And your response helps me to understand my feelings even more. I knew your reply would be worth waiting for. Thank you.

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  12. Thanks Purest Green, Carol Anne! Thank you for sending me your kind wishes and positive energy.

    French Fancy - Thank you! I am (after many years of not appreciating myself) at last happy with how I turned out. Les boobies et le butt especially, he, he. If I can't be tall and model perfect at least I can be boobilicious.

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  13. Dear Cheryl,
    Thank you for your recent supportive comments on my blogosphere. The pistol is a gun, yes. Hope you are feeling OK, weddings get on my tits to be honest. I had a good 'un, but ended in divorce, so, aye, I'm no fan of them. Prefer funeral; more booze, more profound a celebration of life. And a good reason to break out the Scottish water of life: whisky,
    Fare thee weel fair maiden,
    Seanie

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  14. I hope that your BF will come and cry at your wedding some day. Great shoes!

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  15. This is a beautifully-written and touching post. Yes, we may move in different directions, but the essence of friendship always remains. I hope that someday you celebrate your own wedding with as much joy as your friend has. xo

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  16. Psychonaught - Oh, I was hoping it was UK/pub slang for something more benign, like a cell phone or whatever. Hmmm, yeah funerals are a more profound celebration of life. but I have to say I look more forward to my wedding than my funeral.

    Thanks Dedene, I know she will. Everyone I know, family and friends will be crying at my wedding - with relief!

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  17. Thanks, Tara, I hope so too.

    And yes, I'm so grateful the essence of friendship and love does stay the same, no matter the distance and time in between.

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  18. Well Cheryl...O'Toole (my mucker) is no more a gun toter than I am...I'm just taking a little liberty with the truth. He asked me to "give" him a gun...everything else is true, though!
    Love and peace,
    Seanie

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  19. Seanie - Oh thank goodness! I was starting to worry UK pubs were dangerous places! I do love your use of language, I must say.

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  20. Love the shoes!
    Such a touching post. I can sympathize with your sentiments here. So many of my childhood friends have gone on to have partners and children and because I live so far away, I can only stand outside the circle and watch.
    But you were there and felt the emotion of the day. You experienced her wedding day with her, no matter if you were in the wedding party or not. That's sweet.
    I think I'd cry no matter who's wedding I went to though.... I'm such a sap!lol

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  21. I loved the shoes too, but more importantly, I loved the reflective comments that followed. In spite of all that about childhood, struggles, friendship, perseverance, the result is still you are transforming what happens to you, around you, within you -- all into art that inspires and teaches. Thank YOU!

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  22. I loved the shoes too, but more importantly, I loved the reflective comments that followed. In spite of all that about childhood, struggles, friendship, perseverance, the result is still you are transforming what happens to you, around you, within you -- all into art that inspires and teaches. Thank YOU!

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  23. The Dutchess - thank you, I am really grateful I was there. It made me reflect on some sad things but I do love a good cry.

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  24. Beth - Thanks! I am glad to have found a new way to express myself, a way that helps me understand my experiences and, hopefully, help others too.

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  25. Cheryl, Thank you again for your kind, supportive comments. I'm sure your big day will be a right good 'un old gal! UK Pubs? They can be tricky sometimes, tough enough, esp. in my neck of the woods, but no you'd be made most welcome here I can but assure ye!
    Blessings to you,
    Seanie

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