Yesterday was a wedding day. One of my first cousins, once removed, got married. It was my dad's side of the family. So dad arrived at my house at 12:15 P.M. and we were together until 10:00 P.M. It was a long day.
For a Catholic wedding, the usual options are a Friday night ceremony immediately followed by the reception, or a Saturday afternoon ceremony with an evening reception. A Friday night affair (which is what Jim and I had) can be tough for guests who typically are rushed after a day of work. Saturday weddings are less hectic, but kill an entire weekend day.
If it weren't for my dad, I probably would have skipped the ceremony. But, as it was, by the time I got to the reception, I was tired of being in dressy clothes and ready to be by myself.
It was, however, nice to catch up with relatives I only seem to see at weddings and funerals. I also enjoyed watching dad having fun and dancing with his three-year-old great-granddaughter. Seeing my 81-year-old dad and his 76-year-old sister still mentally alert, without any physical handicaps, gives me hope. I continue to pray I pulled more from dad's gene pool than mom's.
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