Sunday, November 29, 2009
Massachusetts Wedding Officiant - Elly Jackson: Small and Beautiful
http://www.facebook.com/ellen.jackson3
Small and Beautiful
I have at least three weddings a year that come in (very) last minute and I generally love them. Last year I married a couple on December 16th in the Boston Common, having met them for ten minutes in the lobby of the Four Seasons.
This year there was a ceremony on Valentine's Day with a Russian couple in my home. The bride came in with a resplendent wedding gown, and the groom brought a photographer friend, his parents and grandmother, and a skeptical son from a previous marriage. Usually these tiny weddings are over and out within a half hour. But this was different.
The Russians are a friendly people. After the ceremony, the bride went back up to my bedroom to change for the subsequent lunch downtown. The groom's grandmother spoke only Russian, but found a way to thank me through her daughter's translation. The groom's father told of having lived in St. Petersburg and emigrating to the US in the 1980s.
Laughter filled the kitchen and dining room for over an hour.
Last night I married a couple who showed up ten days ago looking for a ceremony with only parents and sibling invited. We briefly discussed how to set up their dining room in case there were wedding crashers. (I have rarely done a wedding that was meant for only two and didn't add at least a dozen). Two days after we met, the groom said "plan for twenty". Their friends came in from everywhere. The house, which I had expected to be nice enough, but more likely last minute chic, was as impeccably organized as any professional wedding venue I have seen, the bride wore the wedding dress she had purchased for the repeat big ceremony they were planning for next summer, and the candles, flowers and light food and drink were so beautifully coordinated that this could have been at any high end chalet.
I am not voting on wedding size. This couple has at least another hundred friends they would like to have included. But it amazes me the ingenuity of two people who are determined to marry and to have the moment count, no matter the number of guests.
This year there was a ceremony on Valentine's Day with a Russian couple in my home. The bride came in with a resplendent wedding gown, and the groom brought a photographer friend, his parents and grandmother, and a skeptical son from a previous marriage. Usually these tiny weddings are over and out within a half hour. But this was different.
The Russians are a friendly people. After the ceremony, the bride went back up to my bedroom to change for the subsequent lunch downtown. The groom's grandmother spoke only Russian, but found a way to thank me through her daughter's translation. The groom's father told of having lived in St. Petersburg and emigrating to the US in the 1980s.
Laughter filled the kitchen and dining room for over an hour.
Last night I married a couple who showed up ten days ago looking for a ceremony with only parents and sibling invited. We briefly discussed how to set up their dining room in case there were wedding crashers. (I have rarely done a wedding that was meant for only two and didn't add at least a dozen). Two days after we met, the groom said "plan for twenty". Their friends came in from everywhere. The house, which I had expected to be nice enough, but more likely last minute chic, was as impeccably organized as any professional wedding venue I have seen, the bride wore the wedding dress she had purchased for the repeat big ceremony they were planning for next summer, and the candles, flowers and light food and drink were so beautifully coordinated that this could have been at any high end chalet.
I am not voting on wedding size. This couple has at least another hundred friends they would like to have included. But it amazes me the ingenuity of two people who are determined to marry and to have the moment count, no matter the number of guests.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Nervous grooms
Last evening I had the pleasure and privilege of sitting down with a nervous groom for almost 30 minutes before we began the ceremony. This is a man in his mid-thirties, well-educated, confident, easy-going, great sense of humor. But when his buddies started to arrive, even they were asking: "Are you OK?"
He told them he was, but in a quiet little corner, he confessed to me that he was nervous. But this was not the simple nervous of "I have to say those words and smile in front of all those people". This was deep within his bones: his life was changing in a matter of minutes; this was real, as in stepping up to the plate and taking on the weight of combining his life with another human being as imperfect as he is. Making promises he would keep, and someday discovering their nuance, ambiguity, and power to take him through suffering he can't imagine at this moment. This was not a dress rehearsal for a soap opera drama.
Many grooms appear placid and under control, but more often than not, they are barely masking not only their nerves, but also their vulnerability. I have witnessed more grooms than brides with tears in their throat (and streaming down their faces). This is one of the few times in his life that a man has permission to be moved to tears. It's this rush of energy, feeling like nerves, invigorated by passion and anxiety, that courses through his veins and brings him to that humble place: I can choose another without knowing the final outcome, but allow for any possibility along the road of my life with my beloved. I can and will choose freely and in good faith.
That's enough energy to make me nervous for any groom.
He told them he was, but in a quiet little corner, he confessed to me that he was nervous. But this was not the simple nervous of "I have to say those words and smile in front of all those people". This was deep within his bones: his life was changing in a matter of minutes; this was real, as in stepping up to the plate and taking on the weight of combining his life with another human being as imperfect as he is. Making promises he would keep, and someday discovering their nuance, ambiguity, and power to take him through suffering he can't imagine at this moment. This was not a dress rehearsal for a soap opera drama.
Many grooms appear placid and under control, but more often than not, they are barely masking not only their nerves, but also their vulnerability. I have witnessed more grooms than brides with tears in their throat (and streaming down their faces). This is one of the few times in his life that a man has permission to be moved to tears. It's this rush of energy, feeling like nerves, invigorated by passion and anxiety, that courses through his veins and brings him to that humble place: I can choose another without knowing the final outcome, but allow for any possibility along the road of my life with my beloved. I can and will choose freely and in good faith.
That's enough energy to make me nervous for any groom.
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