Week #1 of My Summer Adventure: The Family Wedding

It was wonderful, of course.  The bride was beautiful, the groom was smitten, the mothers cried, the bridesmaids strutted, the ducks quacked, the sun shone, the garden was heavy with blooms – what not to love? The entire process was a lot of fun.

I arrived at my brother’s house in Redwood City, the house where I grew up, last Monday, June 25^th, and immediately plunged into wedding plans. We discussed what had already been done, drew up lists of remaining tasks and reviewed what had worked at previous family weddings in the garden. My mantra? What does the bride want and how can we facilitate it? Jessica, my nephew’s beautiful fiancée, quietly beamed as she described how she hoped the day would unfold – and, for the most part, it did. The week flew by as we crossed items off our lists. It was fun to be back in Redwood City. I think the last time I spent a week there was before my own marriage in 1971. The city has changed quite a bit!

The only unfortunate part is that, as families expand, the number of relatives grow while available garden space remains the same. Oh how I wish we could have either squeezed more people in or had fewer relatives so that a greater percentage could attend. It just doesn’t seem quite right when all cannot share the day. I guess this will become even more of a problem as we age and generations fill in below us. On the other hand, what a nice commentary it is that life is so full of people we love that all cannot fit into one space. 

I was happy to be the go-to person on the big day. My sibs had done the same for me, 6 years before, when my daughter was married in the garden. I wanted Carroll and Melinda to have the same experience – to have as few responsibilities as possible on the actual day. Didn’t quite happen that way – we were all up early setting up tables, pinning swaths of tulle to the pergola, filling buckets with ice, moving chairs. We corralled the ducks and chickens into their coops – although the ducks, swimming on their small pond, were delightfully visible to guests. But by 4, when guests began to arrive, all was as it should be in the garden.

I look back on the day with joy but, let me add, my feet do not. Oooohhhhhh they hurt by the end of the evening. I bet I walked several miles as I moved back and forth among the bartender, DJ, caterers, photographer and guests. And that does not include the mileage on the feet of my other sibs (and in-laws) who stepped in to help as well. It would not have gone as well without all their work. The only significant mistake I made was forgetting to move the decorated cart with the cake to its correct place after the ceremony and, by the time I remembered, there was no path available between the tables. My son insisted it could be done – and he was partly right. He made it half way – and there the cart stood until the cake was cut. Everyone laughed as we watched it move, inch by inch, through the crowd.

Now, here’s the sad part – I didn’t have time to take photos – not a single one – so thanks Melinda and Melissa for sending me these two. I would like one or two of the garden and one of the cake (or the happy ducks!) so anyone who attended the wedding and has some photos can you email them to me?

Paul and Jessica exchanging vows.

Paul and Jessica Collins!

Still waiting for a photo of Paul and Jessica's cake - this is Stephanie and Dan's cake but in the same wrought iron cart.

For sentimental reasons - here are Stephanie and Dan at their wedding 6 years ago.

As Carroll shared with guests, our parents moved into this house in July of 1952, 60 years ago this summer. In that time 5 of us have celebrated our marriages in the garden – my older sister, my older brother, me, my daughter and now my nephew Paul (Carroll’s youngest son) and his new wife, Jessica.  Okay, the first marriage didn’t survive but the magic of the garden has worked well on the next 3 and, I am sure, will bless Jessica and Paul.

Early Monday morning I packed up my car and drove to Pacific Grove for a week with friends - on to the next stage of my summer adventures.