First...I'm old. Most of the couples' friends were in their mid to late twenties and I shit you not, looked about twelve. At one point I said to the father of the bride, "Who the hell invited all these kids and where are their parents?" He said, "Um...that would be us."
I did very much enjoy watching the thirty something's try to pretend they were still young on the dance floor...they did okay. Then there were the forty something's who were doing the same thing but not nearly as well...they looked just a little pathetic. But my favorite were my fellow fifty something's and I on the dance floor knowing full well we had already deeded all manner of hipness and cool (along with all of our rhythm) to the twenty something's and not caring! We danced and had fun and laughed and hugged. And props to the mother of the bride who is one of my fellow fifty something's, and who did a passable Wobble. Rock on my friend.
There was a very sweet moment when the photographer caught Bill and I canoodling at the table. She snapped us and then sat down to say, "Are you guys married?" I replied that yes we were. " How long," she asked. "Thirty years," I said.
"Wow! And you still kiss after all this time?"
Uh...yeah. Wait. What?
She seemed genuinely shocked. And she photographs weddings!!! Guess locking lips ain't what it used to be.
The second thing I learned was this...
It wasn't as much fun without the wine.
The wedding was held at a resort on the Chesapeake Bay. A beautiful, fancy resort. The sun was shining and a breeze was gently blowing off the water to cool the guests. I looked up to the hotel and saw the bay front rooms with chairs perched perfectly to watch the sunset. Then I looked directly to my right to see the outdoor cafe, complete with a covered bar. I closed my eyes and felt the breeze and took in the scent of my beloved Chesapeake.
I and craved a fucking glass (bottle/bottles) of wine. Then I sighed, shook it off and waited for the ceremony to begin.
After we all filed into the reception hall (that had a HUGE bar), I found our table at which I sat facing the bay. It was gorgeous (I also sat with my back to the bar). At one point during the evening I turned to Bill and said, "Is it bad that I would be having more fun if I was drinking?" Of course he said no, that it was normal, that I was fine.
So I sat back and took a long hard look at the reception and tried to feel what I was actually feeling.
I was bored.
But why? It was a wedding! I love weddings!
Then I realized why I was bored. It was because I barely knew anyone there, most of the guests were under the age of 35, and the music was way too loud and they weren't playing any slow songs (as in nada, zip, zero). I love slow dancing with the hubs! We had also gotten up at 4:00 am that morning to drive seven hours to get there and were leaving the following morning at 6:00 am to return home.
I was bored AND tired!
And once I realized that it wasn't wine I needed, it was sleep and a slow song, I was sooooo relieved! I started thinking about what it would really be like if I was drinking. Sure, I would have loosened up and been more relaxed - for about 30 seconds - and then I'd be trying to figure out how fast I could drink this glass to get to the next glass and did they have enough of my brand and maybe I should have Bill bring back two at a time and maybe we can go to the bar after and UUUGGGGGHHHHHH...shut the fuck UP!
Instead I took beautiful pictures which I have photo-shopped and sent to my friend. I enjoyed the rest of the reception and went home to my daughter's house and spent the night with my grandchildren. Then I got up early, without little sweaters on my teeth and a sour stomach and sense of guilt and regret, and came home with my husband of 30 years who is still proud of me and willing to kiss me.
And the most important thing? I'm still proud of me.