Family and Friends (Their Wedding, part 3)

We were worried.  Or, as Sister said as she opened her toast to the new bride and groom Be afraid!  Be very afraid!

There were a lot of people who didn't speak to one another - like, really didn't speak to one another, like for years.  In the run up to the wedding there was great concern about appropriate behavior, or the lack thereof.  Years of anger, anguish, frustration, fury, disappointment, heartbreak, misunderstandings, and miscommunications had the potential to create a Housewives of Brooklyn scenario.  

In some way, I was kinda looking forward to that.  Being around a storm, not of my own making  but involving people I love and am connected to and cannot avoid forever - it had potential for weeks of blog posts.  

Happily, there was none of that.  People were on their best behavior.  Emotional intelligence shone from those least likely to exhibit it, based on past circumstances.  Those who didn't like one another managed to avoid one another.  Greetings were extended (and sometimes ignored) but hostilities were far from everyone's mind.  

There was so much love in the air.  All the evil vibes were vanquished.

Instead, we spent four days wallowing in family.  Memories were everywhere.  Do you remember when.... started so many stories, most of which devolved into raucous laughter as we climbed over one another to tell the tales as we remembered them.

Brother's bar mitzvah with the deaf, elderly aunts' running commentary, louder than the rabbi and the cantor combined.  Trips to the beach, with Daddooooo holding an important role in every story.  Explanations and commentary and helpful hints were sprinkled throughout as we revisited everyone's childhood.

The festivities ended Sunday with an afternoon at Brighton Beach.  Uber (our preferred mode of transportation all weekend long - the subway was just too much) dropped us off at the sand.... the sand..... and our toes were happy happy happy.  I have only wonderful memories of long days by the ocean with my parents and siblings.  This was that ... on steroids.

That's just part of the crew - from the alte kockers (Yiddish for old people) to the nursing infant - shading under the big blue tent, sitting on blankets that were older than the bride and groom.  Leftovers from that morning's brunch (bagels and lox and melon squares), veggies from Brother and Family's garden (is there anything better than a home grown tomato?) were shared and admired.... but the hot dogs SIR carted back after riding The Cyclone

were exactly the right taste.... and it didn't matter one bit that they were cold.  One bite and I was a kid again.

Everyone was interesting.  Everyone was interested.  Everyone was determined to be happy.  Old faces (the bride's childhood friend I remembered driving home in the rain) and new faces (the bride's studio assistant, with whom I text and email about the couture but whom I've never really met) and faces I've heard about but never seen - it didn't matter.  

It was a wedding.  There was love.