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Notes on a family wedding
-I have no desire to go back to Judaism, most of the time. Theologically, it's just not right for me. But it's kind of nice to have ritual cultural shorthand, to have people know what to expect. And I do know what to expect, even though I wasn't really brought up religiously. Most of the time, I like making it all up from scratch. I crave building the things that really fit. But sometimes, doing everything anew feels a little bit shallow, lonely, disconnected. I wish it were easier to separate tradition from theology. And I have to admit, even at my own wedding my new husband stepped on a glass and broke it to close the ceremony, and we danced a hora.
-There's nothing like a family gathering of folks you don't see much to remind you of the people who aren't there. I never realized how much the annoying mannerisms of my uncles echo the personal style that my father had until feeling the strange familiar-but-not-familiar feeling I had watching them this visit. This was the first time I'd spent with the rest of the family in a group since his funeral. It's a challenge to explain to people from the new side of the family how you fit in, because it's an obvious thing to ask whether your father, the father-of-the-bride's brother, is there. It's tough to explain gently that he's dead, over and over, in the fourth sentence of every new conversation, without making people feel uncomfortable. The family treated me very well, though, and I felt that somehow I was representing my father there, as much as being there for my own sake. I wept during the kaddish said during the ceremony for the groom's dead mother, though I'd never met her.
-It's a different challenge altogether to have a similar conversation with colleagues of your uncle the cardiologist. They want to talk chattily about the medical details. They seem to think that this is appropriate conversation.
-There's no question that watching love with people you love renews love in your own spirit. I wish it were possible to watch joy in others in the world more often.
-There's a lot of trust involved in letting random friends and relatives pick you up in a chair and bounce you around. It's a good thing they do this early in the party, before people have gotten too drunk. Every Jewish bride I've ever seen has the same look of terror on her face during this ritual. But even though I've heard many wedding horror stories, I've never heard a story of anyone actually getting dropped and being hurt.
-I understand that they are part of our American cultural party heritage, but how in the world did "YMCA" and "I Will Survive" get to be appropriate songs at a wedding celebration?
-There's nothing like a family gathering of folks you don't see much to remind you of the people who aren't there. I never realized how much the annoying mannerisms of my uncles echo the personal style that my father had until feeling the strange familiar-but-not-familiar feeling I had watching them this visit. This was the first time I'd spent with the rest of the family in a group since his funeral. It's a challenge to explain to people from the new side of the family how you fit in, because it's an obvious thing to ask whether your father, the father-of-the-bride's brother, is there. It's tough to explain gently that he's dead, over and over, in the fourth sentence of every new conversation, without making people feel uncomfortable. The family treated me very well, though, and I felt that somehow I was representing my father there, as much as being there for my own sake. I wept during the kaddish said during the ceremony for the groom's dead mother, though I'd never met her.
-It's a different challenge altogether to have a similar conversation with colleagues of your uncle the cardiologist. They want to talk chattily about the medical details. They seem to think that this is appropriate conversation.
-There's no question that watching love with people you love renews love in your own spirit. I wish it were possible to watch joy in others in the world more often.
-There's a lot of trust involved in letting random friends and relatives pick you up in a chair and bounce you around. It's a good thing they do this early in the party, before people have gotten too drunk. Every Jewish bride I've ever seen has the same look of terror on her face during this ritual. But even though I've heard many wedding horror stories, I've never heard a story of anyone actually getting dropped and being hurt.
-I understand that they are part of our American cultural party heritage, but how in the world did "YMCA" and "I Will Survive" get to be appropriate songs at a wedding celebration?