Two thunder claps, a brief downpour two hours before the wedding, the electric piano was safe and dry in the garage. Ahhhhh, sigh of relief. The chairs are all wet, but eh, we have towels.

Mom was gorgeous, blue flowers in her hair, flowing black skirt. The hippy wedding was self-catered, our acting teacher/family friend videotaped, another friend took photos with her instamatic camera, flute playing as a wedding gift, Bach, Debussy, and show tunes. The wooden meditation structure served as alter. Our buddhist dharma teacher (stated on the marriage certificate) rings a gong; my cue to start playing the processional. e.e. cummings, a drum with a wolf painted on it. We're all holding hands and singing in the backyard. Fresh vegetables and a handmade pottery project as gifts.

A beeping sound midway through the ceremony.
We whisper, "What is that?"
"It's the oven."
"Is something in it?"
"Yes, asparagus lasagna."
"I'll go get it."

He is the hero of the event; setting up chairs, turning pages of piano music, serving punch, cutting chocolate cake, folding and stacking chairs. I'm playing arpeggios on the piano, "ah, there's a bug on my arm, itches, argghhh", my silent thoughts. He reaches over to swat it away. How observant.

I hug my sister, she's leaving tomorrow and it will be months before I see her again. Life is SO unfair. The minister, comments, "it's wonderful to see you two so connected." She IS my favorite person in the world.

Small children. Esther has a wrist corsage she loves to show everyone. Perry likes to play with Esther but keeps calling her, "custard." "Where's custard?" Joan is 75, she demonstrates her good health by doing cartwheels down the aisle.

My small family is growing: a new step-father and step-brothers, step sisters-in-law, step-nieces, step-nephews.

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