Hey there, those of you who delay resetting your analog clocks in a desperate attempt to stop time:
I’m here for a family wedding. Went to Water Tower Place Mall in the pouring rain and left an hour later wondering why on earth we would choose to go to a mall for any reason, landed in the Art Institute and spent the next two hours in bliss looking at familiar and inspiring paintings and sculptures. (photos of the gray day and lots of art)
The morning after dawned gorgeous & the kids and I and my brother took a terrific architectural boat tour. Coolest thing ever—Friday was the traditional Nigerian ceremony and yesterday was a day off - I spent it with close family - and this afternoon is the traditional Lithuanian ceremony, which adds a few old traditions to the familiar (to me) “white wedding” ceremony. (loads more photos here of both the ceremony and beautiful Chicago)
There has been some amusement on both sides of the family over the phrase “white wedding” but that’s what we’re calling today’s event.
This afternoon I’ll be reading at the white wedding: the couple chose a lovely Maya Angelou poem. (In researching the love poem, I came across this equally marvelous poem on aging. Enjoy. ) I also might be called up (it’s all very exciting and last minute) to read a short poem in Lithuanian. I’ve been practicing to get the stresses right. These words like nepersigalvokite and išsimylėjimas and atsipalaidokime have a lot of syllables.
The bride’s many outfits were the talk of the night - the groom elaborately changed clothes too - but who noticed?
At the heart of the Nigerian ceremony was the transference of the care of the valued bride from one family to another. It was a ceremony that was not about a couple, but about two families. We got histories of family, we got tests to see if the groom understands the bride’s personal values (everything from knowing her hobbies and resume to knowing her family’s heritage and how many languages she speaks) we got hilarious moments (that were probably historically important) where the bride was switched out with another person and the groom had to figure it out (which actually reminds me of Shakespeare…which play?…anyway, this seems to have been a thing that people did. Counterfeit brides and once you’re married too bad for you. Like taking counterfeit money - once that 100 passes hands, it is no longer your problem.)
Anyway - the Nigerian tradition had no “celebrant” but more of an emcee - someone to announce what was happening and explain the various traditions as they occurred. The entire evening took three hours with breaks to eat and have sweets and three traditional changes of costume. Fanatastic.
The core of the ceremony is the intention of the bride’s family to release the bride to the groom’s family permanently - the groom’s father accepts her from the bride’s father with many assurances, and then the groom’s father passes on the overarching responsibility her care to a chosen uncle whose financial/emotional responsibility she will be if things don’t work out in the marriage. But there will be no divorce unless everyone present at the wedding reconvenes at the same place at the SAME AGE. (Which makes me think that historically perhaps a couple could undo a marriage on the same day if something terrible came up within hours of the ceremony… some kind of loophole some local version of Henry V put into the traditional ceremony.)
But lest you think this ceremony seems not to value women as anything but property, let me assure you this is not a sheep being handed over for slaughter - we heard the professional resumes and lists of the personality traits to make BOTH the bride and groom agreeably desirable. The families blessed the union so passionately that people came to tears. It was the warmest, most beautiful, most welcoming crowd and the families are mingled now - not just the bride and groom but all the family - it is a staggeringly holistic thing to have to mingle the whole family. Something that “white weddings” presume by inviting the entire family—and implied by the father of the bride walking the bride down the aisle and handing her over to the groom. This just actively includes the entire rest of the family in this transaction.
(Ironically, since it was in a restaurant and not a church, there was a lot more God in the Nigerian ceremony than at any of the dozens of church-weddings I have attended, because in this ceremony, the prayers are spoken by family members directly calling particular blessings down on the couple, whereas in most of the church weddings I have attended, the relationship to God is just in readings from the Bible, and blessings are just public readings and familiar responses, and the sermon (if there is one) is generally performed by some form of clergy that belongs to the religious building in which the ceremony is performed — by some priest or pastor or clergyman who generally just met the couple, or maybe knew one or the other in their childhood. Today though the ceremony is being officiated by the bride’s good friend and will be in the same event space that was used for the Nigerian ceremony - it will be interesting to see whether it transforms with the different clothes/traditions.)
Friday night was filled with new foods (spicy rice! Spicy quinoa! wonderfully strange bread-that-wasn’t-bread! Spicy yams!) and lots of music and dancing and movement and conversation and especially and most importantly: laughter.
I am still wondering which of the two days—if any—the couple will use for their anniversary.
I have been to at least fifty weddings in my life. I love them. I am so intrigued that I have never been to any wedding that was identical to any other.
What wonders this world contains! And how gorgeous to watch love —and trust —be affirmed in this public way.
Writing News
I am a finalist for a contest! There’s is a Creative Nonfiction Essay Contest sponsored by Women on Writing that I am in the running for — I made the first round!
Otherwise I just wrote a grant this week. Nothing creative. When I get back though, I’m actually inspired to create.
Here’s your last chance to read my short story THE CHAMPION for free. It is behind a paywall but this link allows you to read it as a friend. It was written long ago and is fascinating to me because in the story the father has medical issues and a marriage is over, and in real life back then my father’s health was fantastic and my marriage was super-strong. And now both my father and my marriage have passed. It’s super weird to read the ending and see that my young self had advice for my old self - even when no glimmers of anything wrong were on the horizon.
Also if you want to join me online, I am co-hosting the next Pen Parentis Literary Salon this coming Tuesday at 7pm Eastern Time online. Tickets are free (choose friend) or donation of your choice and I will be joined by a special guest host Vanessa Walters whose book The Lagos Wife is about to be made into an HBO movie.
To join me (you won’t be on video - so you can come and go freely) - just get the link here.
Random Final Thought:
When you think about it, a wedding is just two people saying, “you can absolutely trust me” in front of a group of friends and family who respond: “I believe you.”
Don’t forget to reset your clocks - maybe take the moment to reset your priorities as well, why not?
I hadn't thought of weddings as about declaring trust. The place in my mind where the halo of truth is around the pronouncements that are made is in court. What is the difference between vows and speaking under oath, I wonder?
What imbues what is said at a wedding with trust? From the sanctity, from making it official? Or is the special trustworthiness of what the couple says just a reflection of the love they are supposed to have? Ideally, truth and trust should come from love and not willpower.