Next Sunday I will be in a wedding that is sure to make my heart flutter and totally ruin my mascara.
I can’t wait to see my beautiful granddaughter, Nicole, walking in on the arm of her father to marry Brody, her best friend and longtime sweetheart. The mother of the bride is my youngest child. It is an emotional time for her. For us all.
I try to imagine what the music will be. No matter. In my mind all I will hear is “Sunrise, Sunset” from “Fiddler on the Roof.” And the lines “I don’t remember growing older, when did they?”
The wedding will be in The Peach Barn at TimberMill Acres in Tifton, Georgia. The families of both the bride and groom live in Florida, and they all have a six-hour road trip. Don’t ask why, but the engaged couple chose to be married in this charming rustic barn way out of town. Kids nowadays know exactly what they want. And a great number of them dream about “destination weddings.”
I am sure it will all be wonderful.
The Peach Barn was built on a huge expanse of scenic land and overlooks Lake Garvey, a 40-acre stretch of placid water, nestled among lush and tall South Georgia pines. The old Southern farm house has been refurbished and transformed into a wedding venue that speaks of gracious old-world elegance.
Tifton is a small town. It has only a few hotels and restaurants. There is no airport. Two hundred guests will drive in from Florida, New Jersey, New York and the Philippines. It will be fun. And I predict that after this “invasion,” Tifton may never be the same again.
My sister and I have been bracing ourselves for this event. If we were younger and in fitter form, we would welcome the idea of traveling to new and unknown places. But that isn’t the case anymore. It takes a lot more time and effort now to get us ready. Because it’s winter we must bring all kinds of warm things to wear. God forbid we get a chill. Above everything else, forget the makeup and the trinkets, we must bring our medications.
Despite all the hassle, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I am blessed to have come this far for such a memorable occasion.
In May another granddaughter gets married. This time in Atlanta.
I pray I can make it for that one, too. Are you listening, Lord?
I recently saw wedding pictures posted by a friend on Facebook. One particular photograph stood out.
I don’t know about you, but I think there is no moment more stunning than the bride’s entrance. The music swells, signaling that she has arrived. Everyone stands. And on cue, on the arm of her father and framed in sunlight and drama, she takes her first step into an incredibly important chapter of her life. It is a moment that takes your breath away. It makes me cry.
In the pictures, I noticed most of the guests were holding a phone in front of their faces, taking photographs or video. They watched that unforgettable romantic scene on their little screens. I will never understand that. Unless I am getting paid as the assigned photographer, why should I miss what is happening before my very eyes?
There it was, “live, in person, and in living color!” But they lost the import and impact of that one beautiful moment.
I see the same thing all the time at concerts and shows. Audiences watch the action through their phones.
I remember when years ago it was forbidden to take photos or video of any event unless so authorized. Violators were quietly but firmly shown the door. Today it is near impossible to stop overzealous fans without a scuffle. And too many people don’t care and shoot anyway.
What will it take to make us realize that this behavior is rude and disrespectful to the performers and our fellow spectators?
I know some artists who will stop in the middle of a song the minute they see someone in the audience breaking the rules. I can’t say that I blame them.
I have also seen people in the audience carrying on a text conversation during a show. That is unforgivable.
Can’t we just briefly abandon our phones and allow ourselves to be completely swept away by the thrill and romance of it all, and actually be in the moment?
Today we live in historic and histrionic times. It has started to get boring to watch TV. News is all about the impeachment trial. Nothing else.
It is painful to watch dignified-looking witnesses squirm under the cruel scrutiny of the cameras. Career ambassadors testify and stake their reputations as they are grilled by partisan interrogators.
The chasm between political parties has never been wider and there appears no possible bridging of the gap. One side alleges crimes. The other side cries foul. Tweets fly fast and furious. And the media exacerbates the crisis.
This situation is not about to change anytime soon. Elections loom in 2020. It is down and dirty right now. Can it get worse? Yes, it can. And yes, it will.
I can’t wait to get back home. But tell me. Am I not in for more of the same? Maybe worse?