A Greene Wedding: Surprise 2nd cousins, endless bottles of beer, and a "Katrina dog" named Bro...
One never really knows what to expect from weddings. Particularly ones where 1) you barely know the couple and 2) you're the only one in your age group of the people you DO know. Translation...I went to a family wedding yesterday, barely know my 2nd cousin groom, had never met the bride, and was surrounded by relatives -- including my parents -- roughly between 18 and 33 years older than me.
Being I've always had a particular fondness for this side of the family, and also was always one of those kids who relished sitting around the table over tea and cigarettes as the grown-ups bullshitted, I wasn't really concerned about being bored or feeling awkwardly out of place. You can toss in the fact, too, that i'm not exactly a painfully shy, socially stunted wallflower. Still, though, I really had no idea what I was getting into when my cousin graciously asked me to be her guest. You see, BEING I don't know the groom that well, he'd only invited my parents...that is, The Adults You Have to Invite Even Though You Never See Them Because Our PARENTS All Know Each Other. So i'm lucky to have even experienced the surreal joy that was yesterday.
Let me throw in here, just because I find it wildly amusing and interesting, that my cousin met his wife in prison. HA! He's a correction officer at one of the most notorious prisons around; she's a parole counselor at the same prison. Yet again, a man in uniform gets the girl.
The wedding itself...Catholic, lovely, emotional (for the couple, that is; I wasn't myself reduced to tears in the pew). I surprised myself even at this early juncture by not being consumed with cynicism toward both marriage AND religion throughout the mass. Rather, I was genuinely happy for all involved...when I wasn't sizing up my fellow churchgoers. Hey, wait, there was no communion...I just realized that. A truncated Catholic service! And there was no receiving line at the end of mass, either...which explains why I didn't say ONE word to the bride the entire night. My cousin, thankfully, I did BRIEFLY get to wish well, during the reception family picture. Whether he even knew who I was, though, i'm not sure...which was a big part of my after-wedding melancholy.
I could go on for hours, but i'd like to get to bed before 3am, so i'll try to speed this up. After the wedding is when (naturally) things got interesting. We were invited "back to the house" to fill the gap before the 6pm reception. Here, finger foods, cookies, Halloween candy (mmmm, Twizzlers), and a cooler of beer welcomed us. I had 3 beers in barely more than an hour. We were greeted at the door by 2 precious little doggies. A brown furry thing named Cassie or Casey...and Bro, the Katrina rescue, a black lab I think. I YEARNED for dogs to be able to talk, as I was so curious as to what Bro had been through and who his previous owners were...and if they were even still alive. He was the CUTEST dog. God, I love dogs. Oh, how I miss my precious baby furball.
Anyway, about a half hour into this escalating drunkfest, it was made clear to me that 2 of the "stranger men" i'd been walking past without a word...were my 2nd cousins. Our grandfathers were siblings. These newfound cousins were brothers, 31 and 27, and lived around Tampa, FL. One of them even has the same first AND last name as my grandfather. I was, and remain, floored by this. It was just all so bizarre. I found myself monitoring their every move throughout the night, obsessive stalker freak that I am. Let's be clear...I wasn't following them to the urinals. I merely mean that their table was next to mine, so I'd just find myself lookin at them, wondering what the FUCK they were like as human beings...just studying them. Me being me, I wondered if they were as fixated on what MY deal was as I was on theirs. I refrained from asking. I do think I made SOME impression at the house, though -- it was me who went right up to them after The Revelation, said "hey, we're cousins! I'm Gary!," and extended my hand. And they actually BOTH came up to me later...and addressed me by name...while I had to ask theirs again. But I know now...John and Brian. At the time, though, I felt like an ass. I can't even blame it on the multiple Coronas and sambuca, as they seemed more tanked than me...yet remembered my name. I must say, my purely speculative first impressions were very positive. They seemed like fun, normal peers. I mean, they were drunk and dancing to Justin Timberlake...that's all I ask of ANYone.
And so, when it came to leave, I was bummed. I'd just met these people 7 hours earlier....and really didn't even get to have serious conversations. Fleeting, humorous, drunken, profanity-laden moments...yes. And this refers to tons of other relatives, too...both known and just-met. Horrible. I had FUN. LOTS of fun. These are people I wanna know. I remain VERY perplexed why I don't know the groom better...he lives 40 minutes from me. What the fuck? It's not our fault...it's the damn parents. I feel like i've been robbed of a fun, same-aged cousin. And even if we had some incredible reconnection ASAP...childhood, the teen years, the wild 20s -- all gone now. Dramatic of me, perhaps. And it gets me nowhere. Many, if not most, people wouldn't give two shits about relatives they don't know. But they're valid regrets. It's sheer circumstance, luck, timing that I know some relatives but don't know others. And this comes at a time, may I add, where i've been LAMENTING how fucking large my family is...how SICK i've become of nonstop family functions and the inherent pressure and expectation they bring on multiple levels. The optimist in me would say that I should be grateful I know my groom cousin at ALL...and that I miraculously attended his wedding. And that's true. I just have a hard time with Coulda & Shoulda Beens. But, dammit, I WILL work forward from this and get to know these people better...somehow. Bottom line, though...I had a GREAT time yesterday...Saturday, October 21, 2006. And i'm grateful.
Being I've always had a particular fondness for this side of the family, and also was always one of those kids who relished sitting around the table over tea and cigarettes as the grown-ups bullshitted, I wasn't really concerned about being bored or feeling awkwardly out of place. You can toss in the fact, too, that i'm not exactly a painfully shy, socially stunted wallflower. Still, though, I really had no idea what I was getting into when my cousin graciously asked me to be her guest. You see, BEING I don't know the groom that well, he'd only invited my parents...that is, The Adults You Have to Invite Even Though You Never See Them Because Our PARENTS All Know Each Other. So i'm lucky to have even experienced the surreal joy that was yesterday.
Let me throw in here, just because I find it wildly amusing and interesting, that my cousin met his wife in prison. HA! He's a correction officer at one of the most notorious prisons around; she's a parole counselor at the same prison. Yet again, a man in uniform gets the girl.
The wedding itself...Catholic, lovely, emotional (for the couple, that is; I wasn't myself reduced to tears in the pew). I surprised myself even at this early juncture by not being consumed with cynicism toward both marriage AND religion throughout the mass. Rather, I was genuinely happy for all involved...when I wasn't sizing up my fellow churchgoers. Hey, wait, there was no communion...I just realized that. A truncated Catholic service! And there was no receiving line at the end of mass, either...which explains why I didn't say ONE word to the bride the entire night. My cousin, thankfully, I did BRIEFLY get to wish well, during the reception family picture. Whether he even knew who I was, though, i'm not sure...which was a big part of my after-wedding melancholy.
I could go on for hours, but i'd like to get to bed before 3am, so i'll try to speed this up. After the wedding is when (naturally) things got interesting. We were invited "back to the house" to fill the gap before the 6pm reception. Here, finger foods, cookies, Halloween candy (mmmm, Twizzlers), and a cooler of beer welcomed us. I had 3 beers in barely more than an hour. We were greeted at the door by 2 precious little doggies. A brown furry thing named Cassie or Casey...and Bro, the Katrina rescue, a black lab I think. I YEARNED for dogs to be able to talk, as I was so curious as to what Bro had been through and who his previous owners were...and if they were even still alive. He was the CUTEST dog. God, I love dogs. Oh, how I miss my precious baby furball.
Anyway, about a half hour into this escalating drunkfest, it was made clear to me that 2 of the "stranger men" i'd been walking past without a word...were my 2nd cousins. Our grandfathers were siblings. These newfound cousins were brothers, 31 and 27, and lived around Tampa, FL. One of them even has the same first AND last name as my grandfather. I was, and remain, floored by this. It was just all so bizarre. I found myself monitoring their every move throughout the night, obsessive stalker freak that I am. Let's be clear...I wasn't following them to the urinals. I merely mean that their table was next to mine, so I'd just find myself lookin at them, wondering what the FUCK they were like as human beings...just studying them. Me being me, I wondered if they were as fixated on what MY deal was as I was on theirs. I refrained from asking. I do think I made SOME impression at the house, though -- it was me who went right up to them after The Revelation, said "hey, we're cousins! I'm Gary!," and extended my hand. And they actually BOTH came up to me later...and addressed me by name...while I had to ask theirs again. But I know now...John and Brian. At the time, though, I felt like an ass. I can't even blame it on the multiple Coronas and sambuca, as they seemed more tanked than me...yet remembered my name. I must say, my purely speculative first impressions were very positive. They seemed like fun, normal peers. I mean, they were drunk and dancing to Justin Timberlake...that's all I ask of ANYone.
And so, when it came to leave, I was bummed. I'd just met these people 7 hours earlier....and really didn't even get to have serious conversations. Fleeting, humorous, drunken, profanity-laden moments...yes. And this refers to tons of other relatives, too...both known and just-met. Horrible. I had FUN. LOTS of fun. These are people I wanna know. I remain VERY perplexed why I don't know the groom better...he lives 40 minutes from me. What the fuck? It's not our fault...it's the damn parents. I feel like i've been robbed of a fun, same-aged cousin. And even if we had some incredible reconnection ASAP...childhood, the teen years, the wild 20s -- all gone now. Dramatic of me, perhaps. And it gets me nowhere. Many, if not most, people wouldn't give two shits about relatives they don't know. But they're valid regrets. It's sheer circumstance, luck, timing that I know some relatives but don't know others. And this comes at a time, may I add, where i've been LAMENTING how fucking large my family is...how SICK i've become of nonstop family functions and the inherent pressure and expectation they bring on multiple levels. The optimist in me would say that I should be grateful I know my groom cousin at ALL...and that I miraculously attended his wedding. And that's true. I just have a hard time with Coulda & Shoulda Beens. But, dammit, I WILL work forward from this and get to know these people better...somehow. Bottom line, though...I had a GREAT time yesterday...Saturday, October 21, 2006. And i'm grateful.
posted by Gregoire at 9:15 PM
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