(The end of the Two Gardens, Two Goats, Four Dresses,
and a Wedding saga):
Well, Chandler married Doug. Which really is a beginning, not an end. My seamstress adventure ended when I handed over the wedding dress and relinquished the bridesmaid dresses, and ran Leah’s mother of the bride dress over to her room within an hour of the wedding. I can legitimately say The End.
I love weddings, especially how they are played out against the backdrop of Gathering. Connection, Community. I love celebrating weddings. But we are not celebrating happy endings; we don’t know enough yet. We are celebrating possibilities, cheering a new couple’s wild, joyous leap into the unknown (the sheer vastness of which takes my breath away). This isn’t about welcoming ships finally come in, it is about waving “Bon Voyage” as a Huckleberry Finn raft embarks. Avoid icebergs, y’all. Don’t swim with sharks. Hope you find enough to eat.
This particular community of well-wishers, gathered near the doors outside the temple to greet Chandler and Doug as they exited, created a scene I’d like to bottle up and savor forever. Mellow, fresh, vibrant, familiar. Dear. My brother Daniel (Thor with a gentler mein). Teasing and laughter. Friends and relations, sisters, parents, bridesmaids, children…Babies! Babies in lavender and fuschia….and at last, the bride and groom. He looked Clark Kent (without a kilt), and she looked…very Chandler. Sweet, feisty. Romantic, pragmatic. Sporty, feminine. Eager to please, fiercely independent. Happy. Positively luminescent on her wedding day.
The reception in Leah’s yard was held later in the evening (it’s not a short drive from Portland back to Redmond), and I just couldn’t get over how perfectly beautiful country imperfection is. Or how beloved my sister’s family is. Neighborhood friends and family had helped set up for hours, and had helped make refreshments. Nana (our mother) brought flats of fresh berries from her berry farm in Pendleton. Leah’s husband Mitch and son Chase had built simple, rustic arbors in the borders; these were draped with white lights and Leah’s flowering vines. Wildflowers leaned from the borders into the festivities; there were flowers everywhere. Even the cow pasture contributed a sense of “all is well in the world” with its lush green glow.
Maurya and my sister Nola did the music. I love their taste.
And when it was all over, after the long drive home the next day, our goats (watched after by good neighbors) were glad to see us. I believe my plant diplomats were too.
(some photos–the coolest- including all the couple pictures– courtesy of David Stark and/or Frank Brand)
