Weddings and the Passage of Time

H and I went to a friend's wedding on Saturday. The bride is a colleague of mine (she reminds me a little bit of my sister, Girl from Texas). It was a very intimate event held at an officers' club, and a very classy happening. Friday night, she had a small gathering at her high-rise condo in the Pentagon area, with the most spectacular view of the Washington Monument and the Capital from her balcony. It was sort of like a rehearsal dinner, but without the rehearsal. Just the dinner. We all sat around and talked and I got to know the groom a little better and decided that I like him very much. I think they are well suited. The wedding was equally close. The bride, her brothers, two law school friends, a couple of her colleagues (including myself, Lea and our supervisor) and our husbands, the groom and his three kids, two sisters and a colleague...not too many people. A very nice number.

Weddings are interesting to people who have been married for a while. When your child turns 21, you sort of forget that you were ever 21 yourself. But a wedding brings back the memories of the beginning. At the same time, a wedding slaps you in the face with the knowledge that you're NOT 21 any more. And yet, at this wedding, the bride was 40-something, and the groom at least 10 years older, but as I watched them take their vows, their faces filled with youthful anticipation, I was reminded once again that you don't really have to be 21 to be young. My father was fond of that old cliche "You are as young as you feel." So, the occasional wedding is a good reminder.

I don't know at what point during the ceremony H took my hand, but suddenly there it was, big and warm and very comfortable. Later, I overheard someone saying that they had seen my supervisor and her husband (same age as us) take one anothers' hands. And Lea and her husband were a little sweeter to one another.

So, what causes this sudden desire to touch each other? Is it a wish to be 21 years old again? Or at least to recapture the newness of it all, a time when everything was in front of us, a horizon of unknown potential and anticipation, before the mortgage, the career, kids, college tuition payments? Does it remind us to BE young?

The other day, the elusive offspring called. He is considering his options for the time after he graduates in June 2009. One thought is that he would take a 2-year visa and stay in the UK to work. Any work. Physics would be nice, but he says he'd even work as a mechanic just to get away from the academic world for a while. "You're getting a mighty expensive education for doing mechanics work," I said, and then suddenly I thought differently. "Actually, never mind. Now is the time to do that. Before you get the mortgage, the career, kids, and the pesky college tuition payments that go with having kids." He's only 21. His whole life is out there ahead of him. Certainly, I'd rather see him using his talents (singing, acting, his aptitude for science), but if he can support himself in the UK with whatever job he lands, well then, that's part of his life experience. I would have loved to have that experience.

And who knows? Someday, I might be standing at his wedding and reaching out for H's hand, reliving 21.