a wedding

this saturday night i attended the wedding of my mother's goddaughter, and though she is five years younger than i am (we met when i was six and she was just a year old), i was her "first friend." She and her mom moved into the apartment above where i lived with my mom and her boyfriend (who would later become my stepfather) back in 1979 (or late 78). My mom, being the gregarious sort, made fast friends with this young mom and her toddler, and we're still in each other's lives.

I remember carrying this kid around on my back and playing any number of convoluted child-inspired games. How can she be someone's wife? More than that, how is it that she now makes her living as a parole officer? (Frankly, I'd like to get in on that action. I think I'd be great at it...)

the ceremony took place outside, and i found that i was glad of my coat. it was chillier than was comfortable, but in April you take your chances. Seven p.m., I think, is the perfect time for a wedding. Fading daylight. Dusky. It's just inherently romantic. And if yours is a winter affair, then it's full-on nighttime, which holds its own obvious magic.

Between the open bar and the inherent nostalgia, I lost my self-consciousness enough to dance, and went home happy and if not hopeful, then at least not disconsolate.