The Auspicious Jots clan journeyed to PA for my brother's wedding last week. The drive was horrible. The rehearsal dinner was great. My bro looked like a stud muffin and his bride was beautiful and gracious. (Trust me on that one, none of my pics turned out of her.) The groomsmen wore matching brown Converse. The band at the reception played that oldie and goodie whose chorus is something like "Then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you" and the singer sang it to me. (Yeah, I'm a sucker for that move. If you're not, your heart has turned to cold slick granite. Or so I told my husband when he returned to the table after the song and asked me why I was grinning like a fool.) All around blast.
Weddings are times for nostalgia. Many of us talked of Grandma Frances who died a few years ago in her nineties. We sorely missed my brother who could not make it, but whose son stood for him in the groom's line. We marveled at the fact that Grace can legally drink a gin and tonic. ("For Pete's sake, I'm 26!") And some of us quietly said prayers of thanksgiving and hope for the family member undergoing radiation treatments who was loudly shaming the rest of us to join her on the dance floor. We could barely keep up with her.
One of my favorite moments of the weekend, I uncharaceristically managed to capture with my camera. There was a thunderstorm after the rehearsal dinner. My son and I were still awake and he watched the spectacle out the hotel window.
This picture speaks volumes about my life, and about my family. His little askew jammies with astronauts. His sister's little pink sandals and his father's big shiny shoes together. His attempts to be the big man, but still being amazed by all kinds of little things I take for granted. My attempts at capturing some of the dozens of charming, funny, sweet things that my family does every single day. It's all there. Luckily, wedding nostalgia had a hold of me and I got a picture of it.
Mazel Tov to the bride and groom. Last I checked they were in Istanbul being mistaken for American soap opera stars. Long live the beloved family. Somebody find that lead singer. I want to hear Cole Porter's "So in Love!"