BAUHAUSWIFE

freebirth, mothering, family, feminism, spirit, nourishment, outrageousness & dissent

  • Home
  • About & Contact
  • Work With Me
  • Disclaimer

The Wedding!

September 13, 2015 by Yolande 1 Comment

IMG_5436

*

IMG_5438

*

IMG_5447

*

IMG_5463

*

IMG_5484

*

IMG_5501

*

IMG_5523

*

IMG_5537

*

IMG_5545

*

IMG_5554

*

IMG_5576

*

IMG_5656

*

IMG_5663

*

IMG_5685

*

IMG_5691

*

IMG_5702

*

IMG_5761

*

IMG_5764

*

IMG_5791

*

IMG_5804

*

IMG_5814

*

IMG_5816

*

IMG_5826

*

IMG_5832

*

IMG_5845

*

IMG_5870

*

IMG_5879

*

IMG_5880

*

IMG_5883

*

IMG_5891

*

IMG_5895

*

IMG_5914

*

IMG_5924

*

The real purpose of our trip to Vancouver, was to be present for, and to celebrate, my little brother’s wedding to his long-time  sweetheart.  J. & J. met in grade nine, when they both played the title roles of their high-school production of Romeo and Juliet.  I know, I know.  The story would be romantic and delightful to the point of ridiculousness, if not for the fact that they are truly beautiful, lovely, brilliant people, and that they have what is sincerely one of the best relationships of any couple I know. Sigh.

*

I had a lot of trepidation about our trip, not least of which was the fear that my kids would have a hard time sublimating their animal urges during a wedding ceremony that was going to be dignified, tasteful, proper, and gorgeous to the utmost.  And my worst fears were more than realized during the rehearsal.  Treva had officially been invited to be the flower girl, and Felix immediately (eight months ago?) decided that he too would be the flower-boy (which everyone, including J. and J., thought was a great idea!).  And then Horus started to suggest that maybe he would also like to be part of the ceremony, which was great!  But the rehearsal was a nightmare.

*

The wedding was to be held at Van Dusen gardens, a beautiful botanical garden right in the heart of the city of Vancouver, and the rehearsal was a the same location. Felix and Treva could not sit still though, and kept running off into the distance, or trying to take a swim in the pond when it was time for them to stand solemnly, and when we practiced walking down the aisle, they either raced, or lay on the grass, giggling.  Then my mother arrived with Horus, who immediately climbed 30 feet into the nearest cedar tree, and started hooting like a distressed owl, causing general alarm. My mum and I ineffectually tried cajoling him down, and uttering mild threats, and then she and I had a fight about the fundamental theory of relating to young children, while my poor little brother tried to ignore us, and probably silently wished (for the billionth time) that he had been born into an altogether different family.  I stomped off, plotting to change my plane ticket and fly home early.

*

That evening, my mother hosted a dinner at her house for the wedding party, and I pulled myself together enough to have a great time.  It was then that Treva was presented with her flower-girl dress, and Felix also dressed up in his suit and bow-tie and gave a fashion show in the living room, and everyone gasped at the sight of their adorableness.  I have a lot of issues with the compulsory femininity that is foisted upon girls from birth, so it was with a large degree of ambivalence that I beheld my daughter prancing around in her tulle skirt, golden shoes, and flowered crown.  I have come to realize that there is, in fact, no innocence.  But she was joyful, and I can (and do) think my thoughts, without killing the joy that we all have to seek out, in an imperfect world.

*

The day of the wedding, we all got our hair cut, and our nails done, and it was ridiculous, and fun, and there was much ado about everything, making sure we were presentable, and there on time.  After a week or more of rain and dreariness, the sun came out, and the gardens were perfection.  The bride was simply gorgeous, and my brother looked dashing and handsome.  By some miracle, once my children were dressed up to the nines, they seemed to magically understand the gravity of the situation, and they all processed down the aisle with shocking decorum, looking unbearably sweet.  They even managed to stand up at the front with minimal fidgeting while my little baby brother and his partner shared words that we witnessed.  My brother’s vows were spare, and direct.  He spoke of his promise to be true; of his lifelong commitment, and he became overcome with emotion, and had to stop partway through, to compose himself.  John is an immensely private, self-contained person, and everyone there was moved by his obvious love and sincerity.  My mum and I wept in the front row.

*

During the elegant, gorgeous reception at Shaughnessy restaurant, several of John’s & J.’s friends from university, from their work as a successful businesspeople, and from John’s career as a professional ultimate frisbee player, came up to me to ask me who I am, and how I know John and J.  I’m his big sister!  I would say with a smile, and I mentioned to a couple of people about how lovely it was, and also how it was a bit strange, to be witnessing this rite of passage for my brother, after living away for so many years, and the fact that, in a way, I don’t really know him very well.  I was eight years old when John was born, and basically couldn’t have cared less about his existence…and then, in no time, I was out of the house, and on to my life in the world.  At the same time though, I do know John, in an indelible, family sort of way.  I think this is why I was so touched by seeing him here, at his own wedding, all grown up.  I reflected again on his promise to be true to his wife and to love and support her, which is  so evident, and has been, since grade nine.  And I realized that of any man I know, my little brother is equipped to fulfill this promise, but more that betrayal and insincerity are anathema to his constitution, to his upbringing, to his core self.  He is a good person, an honourable person, and I’m incredibly proud of him.  I haven’t been the best big sister ever, (I joked that my neglect must have had something to do with his independence and success in the world, but this is definitely not the case), but I look forward to taking whatever opportunities I can, in the future, to support him, and to love him, and my wonderful, sweet, smart and kind new sister-in-law.

*

Even though my little sister was a pill, the reception was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, and my mum, my beloved god-mother Jackie and I were on the dance-floor until 2am.  We weren’t allowed (for good reason) to take photos during the ceremony, but I did snap a bunch (above) of before and after in the gardens.  It was a great day.

Get the Newsletter
Bauhauswife ideas & insight, weekly.

Filed Under: Family & Home, Uncategorized Tagged With: family, giving thanks, summer, transformation, travel

« Great-Grandpa Stacey
Big Big Trees »

Related Posts

Unschooling Failures & Foibles

Get the NewsletterBauhauswife ideas & insight, weekly.Email

(no title)

<iframe style=”border: none” src=”//html5-player.libsyn.com/embed/episode/id/4248310/height/360/width/640/theme/legacy/autoplay/no/autonext/no/thumbnail/yes/preload/no/no_addthis/no/direction/backward/no-cache/true/” height=”360″ width=”640″ scrolling=”no”  allowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen oallowfullscreen msallowfullscreen></iframe> Get the NewsletterBauhauswife ideas & insight, weekly.Email

(no title)

Get the NewsletterBauhauswife ideas & insight, weekly.Email

Comments

  1. Angus McMullen says

    September 30, 2015 at 4:27 pm

    All my jewels together. Is there anyone luckier than I? They are all the stuff of dreams, and while all beauty is fleeting, our memories preserve all this until the lights dim for good… And then a new generation holds all this in their memories.

    Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

WELCOME!

I work with smart, independent women who are sick of feeling disempowered by the myth that childbirth is a medical event from which we need to be delivered. I help mothers navigate the process of planning and manifesting their freebirth without fear. I'm also a writer and a ceramic artist. Feel free to get in touch with me at sasamat(dot)clark(at)gmail(dot)com.

Load More...Follow on Instagram

Categories

  • Art
  • Birth
  • Books & Reviews
  • Family & Home
  • Health
  • Health, Home & Family LIfe
  • Homeschooling
  • Indie New Brunswick
  • Inner Life
  • Notes From the Garden
  • Parenting
  • Podcast
  • Politics
  • Pregnancy
  • Recipes
  • Testimonials
  • Uncategorized

Archives

  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • April 2017
  • February 2017
  • December 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • July 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012

Copyright © 2023 · Foodie Pro Theme by Shay Bocks · Built on the Genesis Framework · Powered by WordPress