Joy

Dear Mandella,

Despite feeling still a bit under the weather and despite the weather here having turned quite cold and windy, I went to the wedding ceremony of M & J last night. I didn't wear the dress I'd made for the occasion; instead, I wore camel-colored woolen twill trousers, a cream-colored blouse, my black raw-silk jacket, and a stunning silk scarf (in gold, red, black, and tan) from my mother-in-law's collection. I looked very nice (at least for the one photo that was taken of me with the bridal couple), and I was still warm.

I don't know how to describe M as she processed up the aisle on the arm of her eldest brother-in-law (M's father died 5-6 years ago). The only word that comes to mind (hackneyed as it is) is radiant. It was as if joy had been transformed into light and warmth, something you could see and feel. We all were so happy for her and J that you could just feel it in the air.

And then, when the ceremony was over, it was as if all of that joy were multiplied even more, like a field of flowers that suddenly opened up because they couldn't contain themselves any longer.

The bride was, of course, lovely. She had a white/cream colored dress (not quite either color, really) with a V waist embellished with embroidery and rhinestones. The dress had a modest train. Her chestnut hair was twisted into a simple chignon and decorated with small white flowers. The bridesmaids wore a smoky, dark-blue halter dresses. The gentlemen were in dark tuxes with understated dark green brocade vests (waistcoats) and dark green ties. The bride's mother, whose coloring is very light, wore a light blue dress and the groom's mother wore a tan ensemble that complemented her coloring quite nicely.

The reception was at an historic home about 3 blocks from the church. It's called The Renaissance Mansion, which is a mis-nomer because, of course, it does not date to the Renaissance; however, I believe they use the name in its original French sense of having been re-born from a home into a lovely venue for receptions and meetings. I was in charge of moving the guest book and the two roses (the ones symbolizing the bride's father and the groom's father, both deceased) to the reception site. We took a moment to admire the cake and the surroundings, then went home because I was quite exhausted.

At home, my husband cooked up a lovely warm chai for me as I changed into a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and wool socks. I curled up with my chai and my knitting for the remainder of the evening. This morning I woke feeling refreshed and happy.

Big hugs and much joy to you!

Judith