Chris and Raina did it right, walked the aisle of Marble House in front of family and friends looking so good the rain stopped on its way down and went back up to declare a cease-fire. We danced until we were kicked out and then moved the party back to the Viking and closed that place down too.
The only drawing I really got done was at the rehearsal; it's hard to hold a pen and champagne at the same time. Besides, this wedding was an intersection of about five families and one of them was one of mine and I really like laughing with the cousins. Pat and Merv showed up on a DVD to compete with Joan Rivers as most entertaining toast ever at a wedding. The jury's still out, but don't look in family-oriented newspapers for the transcripts of either one.
Chris and I are the only people in our generation of the Mervis family to lose a parent and the ache of that loss is never very far from either one of us. We also share a completely different but similarly complicated post-parental-divorce life, going through the years since we were children with multiple parents and families so unlike each other, yet abundant with grace and joy. Chris and Raina wanted this wedding to be a celebration and a coming together of the many different strands of love that made them who they were. Chris in particular has a gift for this sort of thing--it's his super-power, bringing people together and enjoying the company of those he loves.
"Chris in context," I said looking around at all the family still left standing Sunday morning.
"Exactly," he smiled.