Friday, July 20, 2012
Back Home with Wonderful Memories
I have never seen such a beautiful wedding.
For two days, it thundered and rained, only to have a perfectly beautiful storm free wedding day.
The setting was unrivaled by any on earth, the bride and groom, the most beautiful and handsome, each with smiling eyes for each other.
And of course, the tie was perfect.
Ian was a handsome usher and while I couldn't pull off the boots, my sequined sandals blended perfectly with the coral and beige outfit KD and I chose in downtown Breckenridge.
The day of the wedding flew and yet I recall every single detail, every taste, every conversation, every hug and every kiss, every breath. It is as if I have put it into the memory bank of my mind and I know it will never go away.
But on Sunday morning as our family stood in the condo parking lot and hugged and kissed and shared our feelings over and over again, one thing did not occur to me. Only as we all drove away, parting amid waves of laughter and happiness, promising the next time we saw one another would be soon, did time suddenly stand still.
There was nothing moving faster than the car, and my thoughts slowed down, my body slowed down and I felt suspended in time, just another being, nothing to do, no deadline, no errand to run, no phone to answer.
We had all been woven together like the tightest threads of fabric: making bouquets, decorating chairs and tables, hanging flowers and origami birds and pinwheels, filling small mason jars with gummy bears. The pace was fast. And we laughed and joked and loved each moment of being together.
It was hard to keep back the tears as we said our very last good byes to Ian and his girlfriend, Sara, and headed south on the freeway, neither Senor or I talking, each just trying to keep our emotions in check and wanting to freeze frame the last two days. We had no place to go, no where to be, no one to see, nothing to do. As the rain began I knew I would be in tears.
For four days we followed the wind and the rain, not really caring where we were going. We went south to Colorado Springs and decided to veer off at the last moment to Cripple Creek. We went back north, closer and closer to Breckenridge, but not wanting to make the commitment to a road already traveled, we turned west to Garrison and Montrose, and then followed the thunder as it continued south to Ouvray and Silverton. Each turn found us looking for something, eventually finding solitude in the simple peace and quiet that just comes from driving.
Finally we made the choice to go south to Arizona, knowing we had been away from Alamos for three weeks. And then we could not get home fast enough.
We have been home now for a week. Cookies really does not seem to have noticed we were even gone, maybe out for a Sunday picnic is probably what he thought. We did nothing for about four days and then slowly the world began to move around us again, a little work here and there, a trip to the mercado, a walk around the barrio. But now the concrete mixer is going, the Etsy shop is up and running again, the water and electric bills have been paid, neighbors have stopped by to chat.
Family news is steady: KD and Darin have returned from their honeymoon in Mexico, folding happily together into a new life of married bliss, there are new cobblestone steps a Minnesota aunt is putting in her backyard, a Texas aunt tells about an estate sale and the treasures she found, there are carpenter ants at a family cabin, new porch pillows being made while a heavy rain falls, a car that needs repair, a California uncle sends pictures, dancing at the local country and western club. Everyone keeps moving on.
Yet with the snap of a beckoning finger, and in a heartbeat, I would do it all again. The exciting anticipation of family being together, knowing we didn't really know much about making wedding bouquets, the fear of not having enough memory on the camera photo, hot dogs and burgers on the July 4th grill, tip toeing because we were on the 2nd floor and still wide awake at midnight tying ribbons on bubble blowers, the thrill of a daughter so beautiful and so much in love with a wonderful and handsome young man and the stars so close you could pick out your very own from the Colorado sky and make a wish.
I also keep moving on. A herd of cattle went up the street yesterday evening, their hooves pounding the concrete as the little boys came behind them on their burros, swishing their palm fronds against the backs of the cows. The wind keeps surprising me, picking up, letting up, the wind chimes tinkling with its pace. The rain falls early morning, the skies a deep gray for most of the day. A family of bright red cardinals has learned to use the new feeder I brought back. The mountains are thick and green with tropical trees and plants. The gardenias in the planters are in full bloom, surrounding the casa in constant sweetness.
I am beginning to feel back home now and I am filled with happiness and wonderful memories that are in my heart where I will keep them forever.