"Is she crying again?"
Well, we finally got my brother married off. I know I feel better now that he's no longer living in sin. I'd feel even better if I was the one finishing up 12 days on the beach in Hawaii, but what can you do? After the last few months it seems like we all did enough work to merit a vacation.
Thank God I only have one sibling. I don't know that I could survive another wedding. Not even because of all the planning-related crap, but for the emotional roller-coaster. Maybe it was the raging PMS (now with crippling depression!), but I was a blubbering idiot. The sisters of the bride, who didn't seem to so much as tear up while watching their baby sister say her vows, kept laughing and saying, "Is she crying again?" Cold-hearted bitches.
It might be the fact that he's my only brother. And my little brother. I did all right during the ceremony, up until we all had to stand on the altar during their vows. Since I was on the bride's side, I faced my brother. No one in the crazy, cavernous church could see him smiling or hear him murmuring the vows, but I could. It was hard to reconcile the guy up there with the one who I engaged in regular fistfights with not all that long ago.
At the reception, one of the sisters had put together a slide show of pictures of the bride and groom throughout their lives. Compliments of my mom, the majority of his childhood pictures were just him and me. That's the thing that got me, I think. We grew up together, you know?
I think I come by the whole crying thing honestly, though. As I was preparing to unleash the waterworks again for the mother-son dance (for Christ's sake, she chose "Through the Years"! I ask you, could you stay dry-eyed?), M. Defarge directed me to my dad, who was hiding out in the corner, almost sobbing. So we both cried. We're that kind of family, I guess.
By the way, the song they chose for their first dance was "Into the Mystic." Not the Van Morrison version, unfortunately--apparently Jakob Dylan covered it. But still. I was so proud.
Thank God I only have one sibling. I don't know that I could survive another wedding. Not even because of all the planning-related crap, but for the emotional roller-coaster. Maybe it was the raging PMS (now with crippling depression!), but I was a blubbering idiot. The sisters of the bride, who didn't seem to so much as tear up while watching their baby sister say her vows, kept laughing and saying, "Is she crying again?" Cold-hearted bitches.
It might be the fact that he's my only brother. And my little brother. I did all right during the ceremony, up until we all had to stand on the altar during their vows. Since I was on the bride's side, I faced my brother. No one in the crazy, cavernous church could see him smiling or hear him murmuring the vows, but I could. It was hard to reconcile the guy up there with the one who I engaged in regular fistfights with not all that long ago.
At the reception, one of the sisters had put together a slide show of pictures of the bride and groom throughout their lives. Compliments of my mom, the majority of his childhood pictures were just him and me. That's the thing that got me, I think. We grew up together, you know?
I think I come by the whole crying thing honestly, though. As I was preparing to unleash the waterworks again for the mother-son dance (for Christ's sake, she chose "Through the Years"! I ask you, could you stay dry-eyed?), M. Defarge directed me to my dad, who was hiding out in the corner, almost sobbing. So we both cried. We're that kind of family, I guess.
By the way, the song they chose for their first dance was "Into the Mystic." Not the Van Morrison version, unfortunately--apparently Jakob Dylan covered it. But still. I was so proud.
posted by Madame Defarge at 4:34 PM
2 Comments:
I've been meaning to email you to ask how it went. It sounds like it was great, despite the crying. =)
It's funny how one minute you're fine, and then one little thing makes you sentimental and you lose it. I remember at Taro and Lauri's wedding my chin started to quiver during the vows. I wasn't really emotional about the two of them, but the words the priest was saying just made me think about marriage and life in general. I think we need those moments to make us nostalgic and weepy. Another good one is the Father/Daughter dance; a well chosen song there can set me off, too. It's good to cry. Only cold hearted bitches don't. At least not about anything sincere, anyway. You're right, if you cry honestly, there's nothing wrong with that.
Out of curiosity, is the depression a side effect of the PMS or is it a byproduct of something else?
Good question. I'm currently trying to figure that one out. I think there's definitely a hormonal component, but I'm starting to think there's a little more to it than that. Sigh. Stupid screwed-up hereditary brain chemistry...
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