We’re here in the Bay area for the much anticipated marriage of two good friends. We arrived at the “wedding house” yesterday afternoon for the start of three days of celebration.
There was a flurry of ironing and showering and then we set off for the Presidio Yacht Club where the rehearsal dinner was being held.
S and I stayed behind to set up tables for the dinner while the wedding party headed out for the rehearsal. After some (well, quite a lot) of drama about the table cloths that I won’t bother to describe in detail, the wedding party and other guests arrived for dinner.
Pizza, salad, and brownies emerged flawlessly from the kitchen as we listened to eloquent toasts from brothers, parents, and step parents.
It’s probably inevitable that being here reminds me of my own wedding seven years ago this month. In many ways our wedding was very different (held in the backyard of our house in Maine on one of the hottest days of the year with a very small group of friends and family in attendance) but, listening to people toast this marriage, the similarities strike me tonight.
This afternoon before we left for the rehearsal, M, the bride, commented that she had been counting “lasts” all day. “I just had my last shower before I am married!” We reminded her that after all the lasts comes a lifetime of firsts.