I did. I asked TBG to set up the DVR to nuke the whole thing, all 8 or 10 or more hours of it for me. I was interested, sure, but not enough to wake up at 3 in the morning. When I rolled out of bed at 7:30, he had it all cued up for me. I gathered my crocheting and pushed play.
There she was, entering the vaulted hallway, the world's longest veil trailing behind her. I was entranced, ensorceled, bewitched by it all. I'm not a Royals Groupie, but I've liked Harry ever since he realized that, perhaps, losing your mother when you were 12 might have had an impact on your life.
He faced his demons head on, and came out the other end a better person. He met his wife on a blind date; they bonded on a Do-Good-Deeds trip to Namibia. TBG told me that her carrying a knapsack as her only luggage sealed the deal for Harry. Her mother's teary face when the Recessional began sealed it for me. If Mama approves, it's gotta be a good thing.
The Queen looked stuffed. Prince Philip looked happy. Camilla's hat looked like a peony on steroids, garish next to Kate (ok, Catherine.... it was a Royal Wedding so I should show some politesse) and her perfectly tilted white chapeau. I didn't think that yellow was a particularly good look for Amal Clooney, though her taste in husbands is impeccable. Serena was stunning in dress and demeanor, with her fascinating fascinator and her smiling husband at her side.
I recognized Elton John, though Not Kathy and Dr. K had to point out David Beckham when we watched it all again later in the afternoon. The cast of Suits was there, and so was the woman who stars in Timeless (Abigail Spencer, though I had to look for her name on IMDB). There were no chyrons identifying those the camera highlighted, nor was there any commentary during the ceremony. I liked the silence, the feeling of almost being there. I was annoyed at the absence of information. (21st Century Problem)
The page boys and flower girls were much more delightful than any set of bridesmaids could have been, especially watching the little girls climb steps that were almost-but-not-quite-too-tall-for-a-long-dress to clear. The toothless boy holding her train made me laugh out loud with his goofy grin, a distant relative of the smile Prince William had as he watched his brother.
The men were handsome in their military attire, gold braid and ribbons and gold-pointy-things abounding. The harp had a crown on the frame. The castle, the turrets, the Household Cavalry on the steps, the Windsor Grey horses (sire and offspring) pulling the open carriage through the streets of Windsor, carrying the newlyweds and their Royal Waves... it was everything a Royal Wedding should be.
I'm flashing back to a friend from long ago. Zanner slept on our couch the night before Diana married so that she could get up in the middle of the night and watch the whole thing, live, on our big screen tv. I was indulgent then. I get it now.
Was I flashing to Little Cuter and SIR's nuptials in our backyard? It felt just that special. It was a family event, writ large because of circumstances but still deeply personal and human. Harry's aunt, Diana's sister, gave the opening reading. That spoke to family for me, more than anything else.
I'll now relax into watching young Prince George grow up into the kind of man FlapJilly might consider marrying. I'd really like to be around to wear a great hat at their wedding.
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