Sure as the apple blossoms appear on the trees, we’re likely headed to our computers to select a gift for a relative’s upcoming wedding. My husband’s family was a bit ahead of the usual societal schedule this year as we’ve just returned from a family reunion that accompanied his cousin’s wedding in Philadelphia.
Weddings are a mix of traditional symbols and behaviors, and modern creative innovations. Putting together the program means navigating between people’s remembered practices, “the bride must wear a white veil,” “it’s bad luck for the couple to see one another on their wedding day before the ceremony,” and music, vows, and costumes, designed or selected by the participants themselves. Trying to explain to my daughter my objection to having her father “give her away to her husband,” I said, “It’s like that replication of ownership transfer is against my religion.” Her answer, so true, “Mom, if you knew what half the traditional things in a wedding stand for they’d all be against your religion.”
Not as many people put themselves through the stress of arranging a formal wedding celebration these days, but if they do, it’s usually later in their life cycle than in past generations. This means it’s more likely that people important to the bride and groom are no longer around to help them celebrate. So what I call, “sweet sorrow” becomes intermittently prominent in the midst of happiness and joy. The rabbi asks the congregation, before beginning the ceremony to take a moment and remember those who are no longer with us. We look at the groom so handsome in his suit and wipe away a tear, thinking of his father and how he would have given anything to be here now.
In an earlier time, there were traditions of visiting the cemetery where your family members are buried with your soon-to -be married partner. This provided an opportunity to introduce your beloved to your ancestors and trade some stories of those that had come before you. Now much emphasis is placed on what will come after the ceremony – the trip of a lifetime or the establishment of a new home.
We hear the couple’s exchange of vows and question how we’ve done in keeping our own promises. We notice the absence of those people who were present with us when we made our vows. Later we rejoice seeing our nephew tending to his infant son and reflect sorrowfully on how much he favors his own father who died many years ago.
All family gatherings involve storytelling. Seeing what’s happening in the present, we’re reminded of times in the past and compelled to repeat and relive shared memories. Recent weddings insure that there are new members who haven’t heard all the stories. Sitting at the table surrounded by members of her parents’ generation, our niece suggested it was time for our family to get some new stories. And of course it is – but I’m not sure she fully understands those stories, full of joy and sadness, laughter and tears, will likely come from her generation and the one that follows after that.
