November 3, 2007

I woke up late.
I packed my bags and forgot spare clothes.
I slipped on the cement and skinned my left knee. Luckily, I was wearing jeans.
I caught up on 7th Son: Destruction on the drive there.
I missed the rehearsal.
For lunch, my grandfather cooked a brisket and barbeque pork and beans. It was very much like a normal lunch.
I met my brother’s pregnant girlfriend. She is quiet. My mother thinks she’s crazy.
My mother is experimenting with pants that don’t close off at the ankles. I am careful to tell her how much I like the new threads.
My grandfather’s new wife, Jo, has moved much into his house. She still uses my grandmother’s rocker, but has moved the coffee table.
There is a large area rug in the middle of our living room floor.
My uncle and I share puns.
My cousin and I share band stories.
My aunt and I share knowing glances.
My mother and I share hugs.
My brother and I share silence.
My grandfather and I share chit chat
My grandmother is not here, and I think about it twice, and almost cry.
I forgot my black socks, but luckily, my slacks are long and I can hide the dingy white ones I wore when I got up this morning.
I am proud of myself for tying such a nice and neat tie knot. I make subtle suggestion to my uncle of this. He taught me.
I almost fall asleep reading and waiting for everyone to get ready.
I get to drive myself to the chapel, which pleases me.
Twice, songs regarding going to a chapel go into my head. Both of them are old. I only really know one of them. I hum it.
My cousin tells me that, in Germany, they wear the wedding band on the right hand because there is a vein running to the heart in that hand. I wonder there wouldn’t be one in the left hand and, if not, why we use the left hand in America.
The ceremony is quite brief, considering the preacher.
Brother Jack, who guided my family through our hardship with my grandmother, gives a sermon.
It is not about how marriage is meant for a man and a wife; it is about love. It’s quite nice.
Jack is a very nice man.
I get to push Jo’s wheelchair for her. I feel useful, which is good, since I chose not to stand with my grandfather, but the other men in the family did.
The reception is good. I start both the first round and the second round through the line. I consider myself a seasoned reception attendee.
I spot a spider resting on the back of a pew as we exit the chapel after pictures. Spiders are good luck in a home. I wonder if this is a good sign.
On the way home, I listen to a song that sings about the God and Goddess and I still get a shiver up my spine.
I wonder how much things change, and how much they don’t.
This has been a good day.



  1. Yeah, I think that is right about the wedding band…I’d have to ask my Mom.

  2. I liked this very much.

  3. *nods* That is correct about the wedding band. I see it here a lot. I remember hearing that being the reason too. It’s not just Germany that does it, but a good deal of Europe.

    I’m glad it went well for you hun. I kinda feel ya about the grandmother not being there but the grandfather moving on. Pops started dating not long after Meems passed. Now he’s moved in with his girlfriend. In a way, I’m glad he found someone else, at least they can take care of each other and I don’t have to worry about him wearing away like he was.


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