Today I will officiate at a wedding. I’ve only done two this year. Some of you may recall the Wedding Rehearsal from Hell last summer, which took place in a downpour, outdoors. This time things will be different. The wedding is at church. The bride, although not a member, grew up coming to church here and is the close cousin of some very active church members. Working with the couple was a pleasure. They were willing to speak honestly about their relationship and their pasts, and even to admit which things made them uncomfortable and to talk about them anyway.
You would think I would be looking forward to this.
But this morning I am pretty sure I’m coming down with something. I am queasy and a little feverish, and my usually troubling ear is more troubling than usual. On the way to church I stopped to buy Saltines and a Pepsi. I have 120 mg of Sudafed and 600 mg of Ibuprofen on board, but my ear still feels like I just got out of the pool and didn’t bother to shake my head.
The wedding is at noon, so you are probably thinking, Songbird will go home this afternoon and sleep if off and feel perfectly fine for tomorrow morning’s baptism. It’s the very special baptism of the much-wanted, late-in-life baby of a couple who dated in high school, married others, divorced, then came back into each other’s lives a few years ago after age 40. It is the first time I will baptize the baby of a couple I married. Virtually all of the friends and family who attended their wedding are planning to be present tomorrow morning. It’s a very special baptism.
So there’s absolutely no (self-imposed) pressure to have it be the Best. Baptism. Ever. There’s absolutely no (self-imposted) pressure to preach a brilliant, yet short, sermon that will make complete sense to people who perhaps do not attend church, subject The Magnificat. There is absolutely no added anxiety given that said sermon is at this point six or seven vague lines in a Word Document. (At least it has a title: “Disturbed By Joy.” I think the title is brilliant. Could I just stand there and say it over and over again?)
There is absolutely no pressure not to throw up in the midst of things.
Also, The Princess is singing in the Christmas concert of Fabulous Girl Choir at 2 p.m. in neighboring Smaller City By the Sea. To get there, one must cross a drawbridge. Let’s just say you always want to allow more time than the distance would require, just in case. This means I ought to leave the church by 1 p.m. A Protestant wedding scheduled for noon should surely be over in plenty of time, especially since the bride’s cousin will lock up if they are still taking pictures when I need to depart.
Have I mentioned that the bride was half an hour late to the rehearsal yesterday? Now at the time I thought it was just because of the snowstorm (heaviest between 2 and 4 yesterday; rehearsal scheduled for 3), but it’s 11:02 a.m. and the bridal party (due to arrive and get dressed here at 10:30 a.m.) has still not arrived.
At least the guy with the snowblower showed up to clear the stairs and sidewalks, and the parking lot is plowed and sanded.
Meanwhile, The Father of My Children and #2 Son are on their way to see #1 Son in his play. They were supposed to go yesterday, but good sense prevailed, a hotel reservation was forfeited, and they will attend today’s matinee. May I just say, if you’re making online reservations that have any chance of being cancelled, I do not recommend Orbitz. TFoMC was unable to cancel his reservation even 24 hours before. I, on the other hand, had no trouble cancelling mine through Expedia on the same day, as long as it was before 6 p.m.
I hear the sound of the mother of the bride and must go.
It’s the most.wonderful.time.of.the.year.