One of the criteria in writing what you hope is a captivating blog is making sure that it is interesting to all the readers – men and women. Now we know that men don’t get as excited about weddings the way we girls do. That is genetics. So I will do the best I can as I share a spectacular weekend with you.
Jerry and I were at the wedding of our friends Nancy and Irv’s son. It was the most fabulous event I have ever attended– and I have attended many.
I’ve had dinner with Margaret Thatcher and Pierre Trudeau, lunch with Princess Margaret, cocktails at Ontario Place with Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson and a private reception with Princess Anne. I won’t both mentioning long ago events with the Premiers, cabinet ministers or the Mayor.
It was exciting and often fun but nothing compared with the warmth, camaraderie, graciousness and absolutely mind boggling luxury of this wedding. When we arrived at the Hampton Inn in Brantford to stay overnight so we could drink and celebrate without worrying about a long drive home at night we had no idea what a fabulous evening was waiting for us.
The hosts were the parents of the bride. Father and mother are gracious and charming – of course the father is Italian which explains some of his charm – the mother is blond with a wonderful smile – definitely thinner and younger than me. That doesn’t thrill me at all.
The bride is a tall, luscious, blond babe – totally gorgeous . The groom, whom we have known since he was two years old, is also tall, handsome, and a brilliant lawyer. He is Jewish, like half of the 300 wedding guests.
There was a shuttle bus leaving the hotel every 15 minutes to take guests to the bride’s home – cocktails were at 5:00 p.m. – ceremony at 6:00 p.m. Naturally we were first on the bus along with some old friends. It was a ten minute drive along narrow roads that brought us to the gates. As we stepped off the bus, all of us just stared at what looked like a movie setting. A long driveway – and a magnificent mansion sitting well back under the trees.
Staff, dressed in black stood on either side of the driveway holding trays of champagne that most of the guests were happy to accept. I took a pass – I don’t like champagne, reminds me of soda water which I hate – I am a wine drinker.
There were several large tents on the massive flat area to the left. And there were real, honest to goodness, fig trees and olive trees on the property. Incredible. One of the tents lit up was the oyster bar – it was particularly interesting to me because in my last book (Final Justice) there is a whole chapter on the sensuality of eating oysters with a potential lover. Rodney of Rodney’s Oyster bar had given me all the details ten years ago and today was the day I was finally going to eat lots of oysters and see what it was all about. Now to all of you oyster lovers out there, do not get too angry with me – BUT – I was wearing a white scalloped blouse with a deep V neckline and standing slurping oysters, trying to make sure it all went into my mouth and not down my neck was not that big of a thrill. So after slurping three different samples, I moved on to the giant shrimps.
Rain was threatening but luckily, it didn’t happen. The wedding ceremony was about to begin and we all sat down under open skies and also under huge sparkling glass chandeliers. They had been set up (I shudder at the electric bill and labour costs) surrounding a flowered and sparkling canopy where the actual ceremony was to take place.
A Judge officiated. It was the first time I had seen this and it was just right. Acknowledging both religions but focussing on neither – short and to the point –it was especially touching when the brother of the bride and the brother of the groom each spoke some words from their respective bibles . A glass was stepped on by the groom, a Jewish tradition, just before the judge pronounced them man and wife.
Everything was just so easy and so meaningful. I can’t think of anything nicer than the way that ceremony was performed. And special kudos to the bride’s family who, as Catholics, really offered their hands in friendship, religious tolerance and respect We were all so touched by their sensitivity and warmth. It was no surprise when we learned that they are a family who have built up a tremendous business in the region.
The kiddies(nieces and nephews of the bride and groom) were not yet off the wall, as they would ultimately be later on (you all remember what it was like taking your children ranging from age 3 to age 7 anywhere nice). And everyone moved on to the next tent for more cocktails.
The tent sent up for the dinner was decorated incredibly. It was all white but again, there were several glass chandeliers that were sparkling and hooked up to some kind of electric system lighting that made the whole area look like a wonderland. There were lush flowers everywhere – lit candles were everywhere – and it was spectacular.
Then we began eating delicious antipasto followed by Nonna’s yummy cannelloni that she made herself – 600 of them – they weren’t greasy or dried out – perfect cannelloni for those of us who love cannelloni. Speeches were followed by the main course followed by more speeches and then, the dancing. For those of you over forty, you know what happens at any celebration. The band plays, we all go deaf and conversations end.
The bride and groom cut the cake and you can just imagine the sweet table. Despite my iron will power, I devoured a plate of tiramisu – the best I have ever eaten – and I have eaten plenty of tiramisu in my illustrious life. And of course, there was fruit, and home-made Italian cookies, and chocolate goodies, and pies, and cheesecake and fruit – did I already say fruit? I didn’t eat any.
But there are some Jewish traditions that have to go on. And nothing is ever better than seeing the groom’s parents dancing the hora surrounded by friends and family and then being lifted up in their individual chairs by strong groomsmen to cling in terror as they anticipate falling off. It never happens of course, but still, it is scary. And the cheers that went up from the crowd when the bride’s parents, such great sports, joined the fun and were soon lifted up by those same strong groomsmen was great to hear and it reinforced the affection and respect we all held for this wonderful couple.
And as this was Nancy and Irv ‘s last child to be married, another Jewish tradition took over – the mezuka dance. The parents sit next to each other in the middle of the dance floor and all the guests sing and dance around them. When the bride’s parents (the bride was also the last of her siblings to be married) were invited to join in this tradition as well, they accepted and seated themselves right across from the groom’s parents. The cheers that went up would have made Blue Jays fans humble.
It was a great event – the people were great – the food was great – the music was great – the décor was great – but the love and respect between two families, totally different in tradition and religion was the greatest of all. How wonderful it was to be a part of it. Thank you for including us and letting us share it with all of you. Mazel Tov!.
Back with political outrages in a couple of days.
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