We had a whirlwind of a weekend. We spent, literally, 24 hours in Portland. Landed at 8am and took off at 8am. Bam! Jet setters in yo face!
In reality, when we got home we were vegetables. But at the same time we felt pretty awesome. What a great way to spend our weekend – at someone else’s wedding! How unbelievably refreshing.
After a month of being legally bound, this was my first wedding as a married person and I was surprised that it felt a little like a renewal. I wonder if that will be how it feels in 5, 10, 15 years. I wonder if that’s how my parents felt? (They were there too.) It wasn’t just that I remembered how it felt to walk down the aisle, or that I recognized the blessing of the rings and how we had repeated those exact words not long ago. It was the message during the readings, it was the solid points made during the homily (not all points were solid, let me tell you), it was the incredibly endearing toasts that reminded the newlyweds to savor these moments, to remember that feeling on your first date when things are difficult or life gets in the way, it was the sweaty dancing and the gaggle of bridesmaids that were a glimpse into the future 20 years from now for my best friends and I. It was reaching for Kamel’s hand when people said things that reminded me of us.
And as much as I don’t get to see my extended family often, I love that we all gather when summoned, that we are the cousin of so and so and the daughter and the great niece and the wife or husband, that it’s one big “so how are you related to this big hullabaloo?” and then the connections unravel. And we all make the trek, we all cheer and toast and clap, and in that moment we are all in it together. It’s wonderful to be reminded you’re part of something so much bigger.