Wedding Time

For three days in early March, I fell in step with time somehow, and it moved at exactly the right speed. It didn’t pass too quickly, causing me to miss out–I felt like I was seeing and hearing and enjoying everything. It didn’t crawl too slowly–I never wished for a moment to pass, I was never tempted to rush to the next thing. The days unfolded at the perfect pace.

It was my daughter’s wedding weekend.

Friday was spent picking up family and friends as they arrived at the airport and running errands to pick up suits and dresses and food. Late afternoon, we walked to a nearby park for the rehearsal, with the sun setting on the bay and shining in our eyes. Afterwards, the festive, talkative crowd made their way back to our house for the rehearsal dinner.

Mounds of food–smokehouse meats, mac and cheese, coleslaw and corn bread–greeted the group, and conversation and laughter soon filled the house and spilled out into the backyard, where there was a fire crackling in our patio fireplace. I flitted from group to group, enjoying snatches of conversation, a joke or a hug here, a few sentimental tears there, so happy to see everyone happy.

Saturday morning, the day of the wedding, I woke to the sound of a text message. It was the bride, awake early, too excited to sleep. She and her bridesmaids had spent the night at a nearby hotel where they would all get ready for the wedding together. “I wish you were here,” she said. Are there any sweeter words from your baby, all grown up now?

The day was busy with more errands; picking up fruit and Cheeseboard pizza to bring to the bridesmaids, getting make-up done, helping with dresses and hair, making sure all the last details were taken care of. I was not much help, really–I was floating through the day, relishing the moments in the knowing, generous care of family and friends. It was like a square dance, tasks being passed, traded, shared, dropped and picked up,  a quick do-si-do and swing your partner. Is there any better way to celebrate a happy event than in this cheerful collaboration?

Then it was time. We were all there: the guests in their seats on the Brazil Room patio, the groom, bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the  preacher at the front, the bride at the door, nearly bursting with the emotion of the day. My two sons walked me down the aisle to my seat, and I savored every detail. The late winter air felt like spring, the tree branches above us were white with fragrant blossoms, and the sun splashed over the tree-covered hills in the distance.

The musicians started to sing the processional song, an acoustic version of a family favorite, and memories of all those growing-up years came rushing into the present moment. We stood and turned to see the beaming bride on the arm of my husband, who was biting his lip to keep back the tears, so full and happy and proud. Is there anything more precious–a daddy and his little girl, this father walking his daughter to her husband with no reservations?

It felt like time slowed then, suspended in a curling wave of joy.  They walked to the arch of flowers at the front, the elements of the service unfolded, and the new Mr. and Mrs. danced down the aisle to the excited clapping and whoops of family and friends.

We moved inside the reception hall, with its tall leaded-glass windows and elegant, timbered ceiling, and found our seats at the long tables for the meal. The happy couple came sweeping into the room, all smiles and laughter, their happiness bubbling over and flowing to the guests, that wave of joy breaking and surging  in as graciousness and grand celebration. We ate, we toasted, we danced and danced and danced.

After cutting the cake and the tossing the bouquet and the garter, the bride and groom changed into traditional Nigerian wedding clothes, joining the groom’s family in their colorful, lavish attire. A Nigerian blessing song played while the couple danced and were showered with prayers and money, folded bills tucked into their pockets and headwear and thrown in the air over their heads.

Suddenly, it was time to leave, as if the clock was about to strike midnight and turn us into regular people again. The family and friends who hadn’t left yet bustled around, collecting clothes and shoes and flowers from the dressing room, grabbing gifts, leftover favors and wine from the tables and loading it all into our van. We directed tipsy revelers to safe rides home and said hasty goodbyes.

The newlyweds came to our house late morning the next day, and we lounged in the living room, snacking on bagels, fruit and quiche, drinking mimosas and pot after pot of coffee. Family and friends came and went on their way out of town. There were gifts to open, stories to tell from the day before, and pictures and videos to share. Late in the evening, we drove them to the airport to leave for their honeymoon.

The wedding weekend was over.

Several days later, regular thought patterns began to stir in my brain. I felt like I woke up from a mid-day nap, a haze slowly clearing. I need to do laundry! We’re out of everything–I need to go to the store! Planning, organizing, and thinking about the details of daily life returned, making me realize they’d been missing. I had gone about my normal weekly schedule, but I was unusually peppy and dreamy, sharing photos on my phone and telling everyone about the joyous event. I had been in a cloud of wedding giddiness, a happiness hangover.

As I began to get back to normal, I recalled feeling a similar altered awareness of time before. The way wedding time felt stretched and a little distorted reminded me of the sharply-focused, slow-motion experience of tripping and falling. Every central detail was in full color and high definition, while the background details faded away; every moment seemed packed full of moments. Scientists have theorized that this slow-motion feeling comes from the brain laying down extra sets of richer, denser memories as a result of being in a situation–usually a frightening one–that brings about strong emotions.

In this case, it wasn’t fear or danger, though, that heightened my experience and memory. It must have been the strong emotions that accompany profound family events. We added a member to our family. We saw our child become part of another family. We were surrounded by the tangible love of friends and family. At the center of it all, we witnessed the bride and groom’s obvious commitment and love for each other, free from second thoughts or doubts. It was a celebration without fear. There was only excitement at the future stretching ahead for this new family.

Is there anything more worthy of enjoying and remembering  in slow motion?