Accoutrements

The wedding draws ever nearer! Tomorrow morning I am taking the train from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia to attend my bridal shower. Admittedly, it's a bit bizarre. Suddenly, things that are mine, that are specifically about me (at least in relation to this wedding) are "bridal." I have a title and a role. I am a Bride. My new identity (or so imply the Google ads that quickly adapted to my searches for dresses and rings) is that of King Midas; the things I touch magically transform into gleaming, glittering versions of their former selves. My shoes, my hair, my bouquet are breathlessly, sacredly "bridal."

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this sudden acquisition of all things bridal. Now, I am quite certain of my feelings about marrying Mark. They are unequivocal. Having Mark as my life partner, my family--I do not remember and cannot imagine a choice more beautiful or ennobling. My decision to marry Mark is anchored by the deep roots of goodness that are not easily moved. It just seems, in light of this profound love, that ads for "bridal handbags" seem absurd.

I have to admit, some of the accoutrements of getting married are great. The bridal shower, for instance. We'll have a grand old time! We will gather with joy, eat cake, and love every minute of it. I happen to think people should celebrate together more often. And for more reasons. Why wait for someone to get married?

Maybe marriage has accumulated all of these add-ons because it is designed to create family, and family thrives on ritual and tradition. Mark and I have brainstormed about creating our own holidays, a series of family rituals that allow us to sculpt our life together. We are picking and choosing the things that are meaningful to us--good food, good friends, good conversation, good loving--and putting those at the center of our self-made traditions.

And we are doing the same (as much as we can) with the wedding accoutrements offered us. I am not buying a bridal handbag. We are not hiring a professional wedding planner. No one will be getting drunk to bemoan the end of single life. These things are not for us. No thank you. You may turn back into regular clutter now; I don't want you.

I am trying to choose only those things that reflect the full joy of our union. If, for now, they must be labeled "bridal"--I'll be okay. But I don't think I'll miss my title (or the ads) when I turn it in this September.

P.S. The picture above is from my parents' 30th wedding anniversary, I believe. I was playing the part of my mother for the reenactment. My grandparents accompany me.