Wedding Musings

(Jozef Israëls, "A Jewish Wedding," 1903, Oil on canvas, Rijksmuseum)

A wedding is supposed to be a joyous occasion.
I write "supposed to be," because the closer the date looms, the sadder I get.
In part it's the non-stop tumult: do this, go there, call that person, run the other errand. It never ends (or so it seems). But a large part of it is the fact that my first-born child, my one-time baby, will no longer be just mine. Even though she made her way out in the world, going to college, finishing a demanding degree, getting a job, paying off her loans, and taking her younger sister to the UK for 3 weeks over the summer, she's still my baby. And always will be.

Yesterday we all went to the dressmaker so that DD#2, the maid of honor, could have her final fitting before returning to college. The dress is a perfect fit. Now the shoes can go out for dying. See the lovely vintage rose color of the dress?
It's nearly the same color stripe I worked into her Ribby cardi years ago. She just retrieved it to take back with her. It's made of Berroco Luxe in Lavender and Begonia. Although I like Luxe as a dressy yarn, it has a too soft hand for a cardi in my opinion. Yet DD#2 saw the yarn in my stash and clamored for her ribby to be made this way. She loves it and that's what counts.


At the dressmaker's, we all got a preview of the bridal gown. Even in the garment bag, we could see its shimmering yards of Duchesse satin, waiting to be worn. The first fitting date will be Thursday. A sneak peak of the pattern is here:

As for my gown, it wasn't ready enough for me to get a peak. But this is the pattern:

Mine will be deep moss green satin.

In Jewish wedding ceremonies, the mothers of the bride and groom play a role. When the marriage contract is read aloud being signed (this takes place before the guests assemble for the chuppah, usually during the pre-chuppah buffet), the two mothers break a plate, to symbolize that the couple are now engaged in the sense that they've entered the first of the 3 stages of the Jewish wedding ceremony. I don't remember my mother and late MiL doing this; it's a custom and not all Jews follow this custom. Still, DD#1 wants it, so now I have to find a mallet. Why we can't just drop the plate to break it (it'll be wrapped in a cloth napkin anyway) is one of those unanswered questions.