Interfaith Nunnery: Wedding Story Continues..

*Cue bubble machine and pull up the lace fringed curtains*

The Shower
Having never been to a shower, I arrived with my gift in hand (Nambé Bud Vase, pack of mushy quote-cards) not knowing what to expect. The male-folk left soon after our arrival at the house of the Bride, and I was introduced for the first time to three of the five bridesmaids I was going to be 'working' with. I had met the maid of honor once or twice before, but it was obvious the other maids knew each other better than they knew me, which made sense, since I was coming from the other side of the aisle. This didn't mean we didn't get along, it was just a bit of a slow start. By the end of the wedding we were referring to each other by the color of our bridesmaid dresses: I was blue, the maid of honor was Pink, the others were green, yellow and violet. It was a bit like the Spice Girls, where our role in the service was more important than our individual identity. We made a rather pretty shimmering pastel rainbow, but we weren't ready to sing "When 2 become 1" for the bride and groom.

Okay, so lots of other guests arrived, mostly friends of the bride's family and a few relatives of both families. I met quite a few future in-laws, and once again wondered how odd it was that my brother was gettting married. After a few more awkward minutes, we settled into the screened-in back port and commenced to watching the unwrapping. My brother's wife is lovely and gracioius, and both of these qualities were displayed to the greatest effect during this strange birthday party-like show and tell. She complemented each gift, and when appropriate passed the gift around so everyone got a look.

When my turn came, I was in for a shock: my brother's fiance fingered the vase happily and told me how much my brother loved Nambé. What!! I had never thought of my brother as the decorative type. He liked posters of sports cars as a teenager, and he collected tour posters of Jazz musicians in college, but beyond that I don't think I had ever seen him make a decision on so much as a salt shaker that was based on the Style of it. For example: a few years back i bought an UGLY pair of leather shoes that squeaked to high heaven when they rubbed together during sociology (I nearly lost several good friends due to this incesent noise), and he thought they were cool looking. These shoes are now my favorite gardening clogs, and I wonder how I ever wore them in public. Thankfully, my brother's tastes seemed to have gotten better under his fiancé's tutelage, because the bud vase and the other Nambé accessories are very pretty.

Setting aside the vase, the Maid of Honor found the pack of love cards on the floor and asked what they heck they were, and in my shock about the vase I raised my hand and told her they were.. part of my shower gift. The box seemed large, but the cards inside were only a bit larger than a thumbnail, with sweet nothings attributed to the famous and literary printed on them. Despite my misgivings, she liked the cards, and passed them around for all to see. I think thats what the cards were for in the first place.. to be passed around to your friends at a bridal shower. I can't think of any other use for them, frankly, but then I've never been in love. Love has a set of merchandise all its own.

Fast forward through my mother's pizza stone, some flimsy gauzy nothings, an heirloom swan bowl and a representative setting of the couple's future china and everyday stoneware and you'll see the lot of us chatting happily and eating pieces of fabulous cake and bits of fruit, our tensions mostly lifted, and our family delineations slightly less clear. People left in little groups, just as little groups of men slowly dripped in from their little party out at the racetrack.

Next On Wedding Story: A Light Grilling, and Race for the Rehearsal Dinner