I had been shopping for about 6 months for my trouseau. In those days I went to Plague Tahiti and Knit Wit! HA!
The outfit I choose for tonight was tight Capri pants and an over sized shirt with new sandals. I made sure my nail extensions matched the clothes I would wear in the next couple of days: beige with a sparkle. (How old am I????). Those extensions were bitten off on the beach two days later.
All the other items were carefully folded and packed into new luggage I received at my bridal shower. A Norma Kamali black stretch velvet bathing suit that I never wore after my honeymoon because I thought it was too revealing (meanwhile it was a one piece with a very low plunging neckline)(that was the only revealing thing about it), and, I had nothing to reveal back then being only 90 pounds), a pink dress that I wore for years, very long skirts with big over sized shirts, and shoes, shoes, shoes.
I checked on my make up and something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. I held my lace itchy nightgown up to me in the mirror all day long. It had a matching bathrobe and slippers. The thing was so itchy it was not wearable. I had it until about 2 years ago..hanging like a skeleton in my dressing room.
My mom had teary eyes all day.
I knew my fiance's mom was a bundle of nerves. She was about 4 sizes smaller than when her daughter got married about 6 years earlier.
This was all supposed to be a surprise but I knew all about it. Why else would we have champagne in the house, and a case of soda and little sandwiches and cookie trays. My mom's house sparkled. Some things were new, everything was clean and shiny. I pretended not to know. I was ecstatic. I truly felt like this was the start of "happier ever after". The only thing on my mind was my soon to be husband, my parents, my sister and brother and other family and my friends. The day went by at a snails pace.
The sun was setting. Our small street was blocked on both ends and the neighbors started to gather around. I keep my eyes but not my heart busy on something else. I was really shaking. And then, like magic, real live music was right on my sidewalk next to my step. I came out with a surprised look on my face. My fiance and his friends Pete and Ernie were there singing "My girl". "I got sunshine on a cloudy day"......they were a bit off key but the song was beautiful and every single time I hear it I think of that moment.
My dad was happy and friendly.
My mom was chatty and excited.
Everyone was there even my wonderful grandmothers and grandfather, all of my aunts, my mom's cousins, my cousins, my sister and brother and some of their friends, my wedding party, all of the neighbors who knew me from a small child, my future mother in law who danced with her son in the middle of Hicks Street as if on a cloud, his cousin Michael, Marianna and Frankie, Aunt Theresa, Cousin Theresa. Many of these people are dead now. Dead! Not here! Yet they feel like they are somewhere..somewhere around, hiding, put away somewhere but not really gone. They can't be gone. We had so much fun and everyone was smiling and dancing and eating and drinking and some were worrying and already missing what would end and some were nervous about what would start.
Italians have this habit of making extra work and dinners and parties out of everything. We can't just have a wedding, we have to have a serenade the night before, we can't just have Christmas we have to have a big Christmas Eve celebration too..and this goes on for just about everything.
I have learned to love the precelebrations more than the celebrations. Don't get me wrong, my wedding day was great but it was not as much fun as the serende. Then, seemingly suddenly, it was all over. I felt as if it all ended too soon. Like many other things. I wanted to keep all of those people with me forever and never change a thing. I can't even watch the video of it (but I am so glad I have it) because I cry from missing them all so much.
A few days later, we were on our honeymoon, homesick, missing everyone.
But then again, if nothing changed I wouldn't have my four precious kids or the stacked years of a happy marriage, or new friends or memories to cherish or my dog!
Serenade's remind me of Romeo and Juliet. I know they are fiction.
This is real.
Webster's dictionary: Serenade: music played or sung at night, esp by a lover under his sweetheart's window.
