I write to you tonight because I’m thinking about energy. The energy of my young daughter planning her wedding….the idea we’ve been bouncing back and forth of creating a beautiful party. She wants teacups full of flowers, fairy lights, and fountains, a lace dress, a garden space, something outside….. and maybe some gypsy music, which makes my heart so happy I could dance a gypsy dance. With scarves. We just got back from Boulder, so we’ve been in the car for a few hours today, and I’m feeling my age.
I remember your wedding and mine, the endless expensive champagne at yours, the rain and the tent at mine, no Chandon, but quirky and lovely….and I wish you were there! I’m overwhelmed. I want her to have expensive champagne! We were so young. How did I plan a wedding? It was quite beautiful to my memory. That’s what love will do…. And it is sad to have memory touched with what was broken, but that –that is life, always the imperfection….I suppose. That’s what makes our species survive, our imperfection. The flaws in our genes.
Our genes were lucky. We were so lucky, with great moms and family, and like a lady from “the handmaid’s tale,” I keep getting caught a little in that past. Better to think of the beautiful things from my youth and my young marriage. Of trout streams and walking in wildflowers, the land where I knew their names…the wild geranium, desert bluebells, the asters, Indian paintbrush, skyrockets. I wanted to be married there, by the little Colorado. Still, my Iowa City wedding was amazing – cake and mismatched china, the car decorated and dragging cans, and we were so in love.
It’s good to have those memories…the ones time hasn’t tarnished like old silver or corroded like a rusty old truck where the photographer’s capture the bride in a posed moment that never really happened at these crazy expensive wedding venues. (We looked at several and received the full sales pitch.) I didn’t get married in a church– but outside, which is pretty much my church….so that is holy, no? I have never wanted to be a smother-mother, a control freak…so maybe I’ve done my kids a disservice by not letting them rebel so much against me. But I want this to be all hers. It is so nice to see her happiness and thoughts and that she’ll share them with me.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea. – Dylan Thomas
I want to capture something of what you wrote, about starlight, about beauty and witness. I am not sure there is time to put it all down, or to make my own dreams happen. Strangely, a friend of mine texted me in the middle of the night and he asked me what I feared. I told him that I am not afraid of anything–maybe morbid things and stupid things. I meant it….but when I think about it more deeply, the truth I think is that time is now what scares me. Will I have my cabin in the woods before I am too old to want to live in it? It makes me a little teary though, to see how beautiful it is to be young on a weary day.
Again, maybe it’s a pep-talk, or just an observation, but as far as I know we live this once. I’m putting up the fairy lights in the backyard. Counting blessings. I noticed something is going on with you and wild birds?
I anxiously wait for your response. It is much easier not to do things alone. Or at least to have someone out there who will laugh with you, and maybe help you plan for a party.