August pause

There was such an emotional buildup to my daughter's wedding that I've been sort of coasting ever since. Outwardly, I maintained a calm demeanor, as I was very invested in not adding stress to everything else my daughter and her love were juggling. My husband felt stressed about the bridal and maid of honor bouquets that, a year before, he had consented to make, which meant I was feeling quiet anxiety about it too. But again, I masked my own stress, as expressing it would not have been constructive in the least. In the end, even though they turned out differently than my man had envisioned, the bouquets were lovely, with the wild organic feel that my daughter had requested. She was delighted when she saw them, and was even more thrilled by the fact that her dad had made them. 

The wedding itself came off beautifully, and the venue coordinator and her staff could not have been more efficient and warm. The event was held at Brooklyn Winery in Williamsburg, giving it a very urban vibe. The meal was delicious, the speeches heartwarming, the company sublime. And the dance floor was packed all night. Even during the dinner service, some folks were already shaking a leg on the dance floor, because that's how my daughter's new in-laws roll. They set the tone and everyone followed suit, and by God it was a party, just as my daughter and her love had wished. 

Both bride and groom were happy at the end of the night, even though I'd overheard them promising each other the evening before "Tomorrow might be a sh*t show, but whatever happens, we will be fine." What joy that the proceedings exceeded their expectations, and now all they remember of the day is the happy. They are on their honeymoon in Greece, now, a place they have both always wanted to visit, and how wise they are to have just gone for it, rather than doing what so many couples do, what my husband and I did, putting it off for a year, so that by the time you actually do the thing, it feels more like a regular vacation, somewhat leached of the shared wonder and soul deep exhale of an actual honeymoon.

My house was full of family members for almost a week after the wedding, and we were giddy with being together for a celebratory reason. With my brother in the house we raised glass after glass of the custom-labeled chardonnay that guests took home as a favor, and mused about how different our children's weddings were. My niece Leisa had a beach wedding in Jamaica; my son had a country wedding beside a lake in the Connecticut woods; and my daughter's wedding was quintessential Brooklyn, all concrete and brick and barrels and exposed beams and greenery walls. Three different aesthetics, yet all three occasions featured a similar gathering of family and friends, and were infused with exuberance and love.

And now, after watching the Olympics with my usual fervor, especially gymnastics and track and field, I'm still coasting, waiting for my most recently written collaboration to be published on September 3, and to get started on my next book project soon after that. We're in the contract stage now, and my new subject's agent is a bit of a stickler over certain clauses, which is giving me the tiniest bit of agita. I try to remind myself all will be well, even if I have no idea right now of the story I will have to find, and whether I will be able to write it well. I always feel this way. So that's where I am right now, floating through the days with a seam of anxiety threading through, and would it even be me without that worry thread? 

On a more positive note, I've been reenergized by the new ticket of Kamala Harris and Tim Walz as the presumptive Democratic nominees for president and vice president. I once thought Kamala Harris couldn't carry the top of the presidential ticket and now I see that I was entirely wrong. I think I failed to realize how much she was growing as a viable candidate while serving as Vice President. And what a fantastic decision she made in bringing salt-of-the-earth Tim Walz, governor of Minnesota, on board. Together, they have been dubbed the joyful warriors, as they cross cross the country speaking to ever larger and more exhilarated crowds. Before this, I was honestly going to cast my vote against Trump and his travesty of a running mate JD Vance, but now I look forward to casting my vote for the Harris-Walz ticket, trusting once more in the possibility of fundamental decency, humanity, and competence in the political sphere.

In the meantime, in this August pause, I'm doing puzzles, strolling our garden paths and sitting on benches with women friends, reading and studying well-written memoirs in the subject area I will be wading into next, and streaming diverting series. This summer I've watched all nine seasons of Grantchester, a British police procedural that is comfort TV. I’m now watching Happy Valley, also a police procedural, but with a psychological thriller aspect, which is absolutely riveting but definitely not soothing. It's really disconcerting to watch actor James Norton play a soulful crime-solving vicar in Grantchester and then see him as a very chilling psychopath in Happy Valley. Suffice it to say, he's an excellent actor.

So now I've broken the odd impasse I was feeling about blogging these past couple of weeks. It's good to be back with my friends here around our virtual table.