Lessons in Love

Maija, who is my beautiful, brilliant niece,
and Brent, the love of her life, got married a few weeks ago.  It was a grand, glorious wedding with lots of guests and even more love.  The wedding was officiated by my sister-the-minister, who also happens to be mother of the bride.  The wedding took place on my sister's spectacular property nestled in the Beaver Valley and surrounded by rolling hills.  The Niagara Escarpment provided a magnificent backdrop.  The sky was clear and the sun shone brightly on the proceedings.  The ceremony, reception, and all the accompanying festivities happened entirely outdoors, and carried on well into the night, even after it began to rain.  No spirits were dampened, however.  Everyone was lit from within.
A little while before the wedding there was a lovely tree-planting ceremony to honour loved ones who had departed this world.  The ceremony was organised and led by Jonathon, landowner and proud father of the bride.  It was a lovely way to physically include people who were only able to attend the nuptials in spirit.
Earlier this year, when Maija and Brent informed me that they were getting married, I surprised myself with how much I looked forward to it.  I guess it's because weddings tend to be fun, happy occasions.  I hadn't been to a wedding in many years; not since my cousin Laura got married in very similar circumstances, and in the same scenic part of the country.
It was great to formally celebrate love at the wedding of a family member.  I don't know if that opportunity will ever come my way again, given my age and spinster status.  So I'm deeply grateful to Maija and Brent for setting an example of what being young and in love and committed to each other means.  It was a lesson that had been a long time coming.  I didn't end up being a spinster for nothing. 

I've never been much of a hugger.  That changed for at least two of the days I spent at my sister and brother-in-law's place.  Upon seeing Jonathon, my sister's husband, I congratulated him with a spontaneous  hug.  That was a first for me.  I've known him for almost thirty years and we've never hugged each other before.  An easy-going exchange of Hi! has always   sufficed.  But as soon as I saw Jonathon it just happened.  We hugged each other. 
The same happened with Brent.  I've never hugged him before, either, but I figured it was only polite to offer my congratulations with a quick hug, so I did.  What's more, it felt completely natural and right.  Who knew?
That's the power of love.  It's contagious, and I felt a love vibe as soon as I arrived at my sister's homestead.  She and Jonathon had been working long and hard to create a warm, welcoming place to celebrate Maija and Brent's wedding, and it showed.  The love and care they invested in building and grooming the property was palpable, which is why, despite years of resisting overt displays of love, I caught the love bug.

It was a truly joy-ful time for everyone there, and that's just as it should be.  But on a very personal level, I experienced one small note of sadness, which was entirely my fault.  After the beautiful, deeply thoughtful ceremony, which my sister had tailored especially for the bride and groom (obviously!), there were photographs taken of the wedding party.  Of course that's standard procedure at most weddings, and a photograph or two of the bride and groom with their respective families is part of the package.  But for some strange reason I thought that I should stay clear of the photography session and leave the young wedding party to do their happy business.  As I socialised with other guests I remember thinking maybe I should go and check out the photo shoot and see if there might be a family photograph that included me.  And of course there was.  Why wouldn't there be?  But I didn't go.  I honestly don't know what I was thinking.  Maybe all that pervasive love got me dazed and confused.  I had a momentary lapse of plain old common sense.
This small, sad story of mine is rather telling, however.  I write frequently about my sense of feeling just slightly separate or outside of the mainstream of life.  I liken it to the archetype of The Fool, who observes life from the outside.  This can be a good thing when it offers objectivity, but there's flip side to the Fool as well. 
I made a foolish choice.  The family wedding photograph shows all of Jonathon's immediate family, as well as Brent's.  My sister's birth family isn't represented at all, because I'm the only member of our birth family she has left, and I wasn't there.  I know that love can make fools of us all, but not being included in a family wedding photo is not the kind of fool I want to be.  At least I'm grateful this unhappy wedding anecdote doesn't hurt anyone but me.  Aw geez, anyway. 

I learned a lot about love at my dear niece's wedding, because I witnessed so much of it.  I've never seen Jonathon as happy as he looked that day.  As he watched his beloved daughter marry her soul mate, I saw the same man my sister fell in love with so many years ago.  No wonder it seemed so natural to hug him when I arrived.  But it gets better - I hugged him as I was leaving, too.  It was as easy as pie.  And I did the same with Brent. 
"That's twice in two days I hugged you," I said to my new nephew-in-law.  "Everyone here is so good at expressing their love.  I think I might get used to it someday."
Brent smiled with joy he couldn't contain as he answered with words of wisdom far beyond his years, "It's a learning curve."
So mote it be.
- G.P.