A Different Kind Of Trough

In my dozen years of not-getting-married, I went to at least twice as many weddings. I went to weddings in the mountains and weddings by lakes. Full Catholic wedding masses and five-minute ceremonies. I attended weddings in which I was brought along as a date and weddings to which I was surprised I’d been invited. I wore that periwinkle chiffon bridesmaid dress with a scarf thrown around my neck and another chiffon gown in forest green and various other bridesmaid dresses in blacks, maroons, and blues. I had shoes dyed. I had my hair done badly. And, I loved so much about these experiences: Being with the bride while she was getting ready. The buzzing moment in a reception just after dinner and just before the dancing starts. The tremendous and tremendously brave act of commitment. At first, these weddings made me feel grown-up. Later, they made me feel that I was somehow lagging behind