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Jun. 16th, 2003 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaI spent the weekend at my brother Steve's wedding.
Steve and Rachel have been together for ten years. For years, they were adamant that they didn't want to get married, didn't believe in getting married, didn't need to get married. Then they were conflicted about getting married. The topic of their potential marriage was absolutely forbidden at family gatherings. And finally, last fall, on a trip to Italy, in a walled garden overlooking the sea, Steve proposed, and Rachel said yes.
They got married in Mt. Gretna, Pennsylvania, a tiny town surrounded by woods and crammed with beautiful Arts and Crafts style cottages. (Crammed is not an exaggeration. Large portions of the town were once the site of a Methodist camp meeting, and the cottages have pretty much been built on former tent sites.) Rachel's nieces and nephews are the sixth generation of the family to spend summers in Mt. Gretna, and her parents and grandparents were both married there. It was clear that this place is home to the entire clan in a way that places they actually live are not, and also that it's become home to Steve over the last ten years.
The wedding was presided over by Rachel's grandmother, whom everyone called "Grandma" or "Gram." Everyone, including our grandmother. Gram is possibly the most truly gracious and friendly and welcoming person I've ever met. Friday night she held a party on her porch. When I went to bed at 1 AM, 87-year-old Gram was still holding forth from her porch chair, a beer in her hand and a broad smile on her face, making everyone who came within her ambit feel cherished even if she didn't yet know their names.
Family stayed in the Mount Gretna Inn - chiefly notable for its porch, larger than my first apartment. Our room was ridiculously lovely. We strolled around, exploring the town and visiting other wedding guests staying in cottages, all day Saturday. I discovered that Rachel's family includes a YA fantasy author, and no one ever told me! We hit it off like crazy and spent a lot of time talking. Unfortunately, we're not likely to see much more of each other, given that she lives in Scotland. Alas.
At five, we gathered on the lawn for the ceremony. After the parents entered to (recorded) brass quintet music, Steve and Rachel came down the lawn together, hand in hand, to a Herbie Hancock tune. I've never seen anyone strut down the aisle before, but it was perfect.
When the ceremony started, the weather was hot and sticky and the sky showed mixed patches of blue and white. But quickly, dark clouds rolled in. The temperature dropped about ten degrees. Some of the words in the ceremony took on new meaning, as (for example) Rachel's mother spoke to the happy couple about "weathering storms together" and everyone looked up. Scattered raindrops fell, and then the rain grew steadier as Steve and Rachel spoke words of commitment to each other. Finally the minister gave up and directed us to break for the porch. We made it there just as the rain began pouring down in sheets. They said their vows and exchanged rings to a backdrop of thunder, their guests crowded tightly around them. We laid on hands for the ring exchange, those closest to Steve and Rachel touching them on the arms and shoulders while those further away touched those closer in. I was just two feet away, my hand resting on Steve's right shoulder, and the naked intensity of the love in their eyes as they looked at each other made me break down in tears of joy. It took me some time to recover afterwards.
There was a damp procession around the corner (complete with drums, tambourines, and poles decked with streamers) to the local community center, which had been decorated with tiny white lights, miniature japanese lanterns, and vast quantities of fresh wildflowers. We had a marvelous barbecue dinner, primarily featuring a whole salmon which had been shipped by a west coast co-worker of Steve's as a wedding present. We danced well into the night. I hugged Steve and Rachel a dozen times each and poured out what were probably ridiculous words of love and happiness, giddy with the reflected glory of their love and the banked embers of my own wedding memories. Then, footsore, we skipped the after-party (which, I discovered the next day, went on until 5 AM), and went to bed.
Sunday we rose sluggishly, had brunch on the porch of the inn as most of the guests dropped by, said goodbye to the bride and groom. They're going to St. John's in the Virgin Islands, to stay in an elaborate platform tent by the water and do absolutely nothing for a week. They looked absolutely exhausted, and still radiant. I still felt pretty glowy myself. I'm so happy for them. And happy, myself, to have such a marvelous family.
Steve and Rachel have been together for ten years. For years, they were adamant that they didn't want to get married, didn't believe in getting married, didn't need to get married. Then they were conflicted about getting married. The topic of their potential marriage was absolutely forbidden at family gatherings. And finally, last fall, on a trip to Italy, in a walled garden overlooking the sea, Steve proposed, and Rachel said yes.
They got married in Mt. Gretna, Pennsylvania, a tiny town surrounded by woods and crammed with beautiful Arts and Crafts style cottages. (Crammed is not an exaggeration. Large portions of the town were once the site of a Methodist camp meeting, and the cottages have pretty much been built on former tent sites.) Rachel's nieces and nephews are the sixth generation of the family to spend summers in Mt. Gretna, and her parents and grandparents were both married there. It was clear that this place is home to the entire clan in a way that places they actually live are not, and also that it's become home to Steve over the last ten years.
The wedding was presided over by Rachel's grandmother, whom everyone called "Grandma" or "Gram." Everyone, including our grandmother. Gram is possibly the most truly gracious and friendly and welcoming person I've ever met. Friday night she held a party on her porch. When I went to bed at 1 AM, 87-year-old Gram was still holding forth from her porch chair, a beer in her hand and a broad smile on her face, making everyone who came within her ambit feel cherished even if she didn't yet know their names.
Family stayed in the Mount Gretna Inn - chiefly notable for its porch, larger than my first apartment. Our room was ridiculously lovely. We strolled around, exploring the town and visiting other wedding guests staying in cottages, all day Saturday. I discovered that Rachel's family includes a YA fantasy author, and no one ever told me! We hit it off like crazy and spent a lot of time talking. Unfortunately, we're not likely to see much more of each other, given that she lives in Scotland. Alas.
At five, we gathered on the lawn for the ceremony. After the parents entered to (recorded) brass quintet music, Steve and Rachel came down the lawn together, hand in hand, to a Herbie Hancock tune. I've never seen anyone strut down the aisle before, but it was perfect.
When the ceremony started, the weather was hot and sticky and the sky showed mixed patches of blue and white. But quickly, dark clouds rolled in. The temperature dropped about ten degrees. Some of the words in the ceremony took on new meaning, as (for example) Rachel's mother spoke to the happy couple about "weathering storms together" and everyone looked up. Scattered raindrops fell, and then the rain grew steadier as Steve and Rachel spoke words of commitment to each other. Finally the minister gave up and directed us to break for the porch. We made it there just as the rain began pouring down in sheets. They said their vows and exchanged rings to a backdrop of thunder, their guests crowded tightly around them. We laid on hands for the ring exchange, those closest to Steve and Rachel touching them on the arms and shoulders while those further away touched those closer in. I was just two feet away, my hand resting on Steve's right shoulder, and the naked intensity of the love in their eyes as they looked at each other made me break down in tears of joy. It took me some time to recover afterwards.
There was a damp procession around the corner (complete with drums, tambourines, and poles decked with streamers) to the local community center, which had been decorated with tiny white lights, miniature japanese lanterns, and vast quantities of fresh wildflowers. We had a marvelous barbecue dinner, primarily featuring a whole salmon which had been shipped by a west coast co-worker of Steve's as a wedding present. We danced well into the night. I hugged Steve and Rachel a dozen times each and poured out what were probably ridiculous words of love and happiness, giddy with the reflected glory of their love and the banked embers of my own wedding memories. Then, footsore, we skipped the after-party (which, I discovered the next day, went on until 5 AM), and went to bed.
Sunday we rose sluggishly, had brunch on the porch of the inn as most of the guests dropped by, said goodbye to the bride and groom. They're going to St. John's in the Virgin Islands, to stay in an elaborate platform tent by the water and do absolutely nothing for a week. They looked absolutely exhausted, and still radiant. I still felt pretty glowy myself. I'm so happy for them. And happy, myself, to have such a marvelous family.
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Date: 2003-06-16 05:20 pm (UTC)lovely.
Just lovely.
*beaming*
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Date: 2003-06-16 05:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 05:25 pm (UTC)Congratulations to your brother and sister-in-law!
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Date: 2003-06-16 05:34 pm (UTC)*snif*
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Date: 2003-06-16 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-16 11:22 pm (UTC)Could just be that truly nifty weddings just run in your family, I guess.
(Did we ever break it to Misha he's Pinky?)
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Date: 2003-06-17 02:44 pm (UTC)I think so, Brain... but what will the children look like? :)
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Date: 2003-06-17 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-17 05:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-17 07:47 am (UTC)Ahem. Okay, better now. Move along. ;-)
-J
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Date: 2003-06-17 12:30 pm (UTC)(I replied to this once already, but it looks like LJ ate it. So I'll take advantage of the opportunity to re-reply by including another cute picture for your delectation.)
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Date: 2003-06-17 03:42 pm (UTC)One of my most cherished memories of that SF weekend was the time spent playing games with the two of them. Thank you for that opportunity.