RANDOM ACTS - 6 September 2001
6th September 2011
A day of rain and cool air, the hum of air-conditioners suddenly quietened, the sky over the Hudson River a bleached cottony grey that, if this were winter, would herald snow. The river itself, sad, as if it carries all the tears that must surely have been shed upstate, where the season's crops were devastated by the rains of Irene.
How random it all is. New York, braced for disaster, partially evacuated and batten-ed down, pretty much escaped, while Vermont, originally not on Irene's itinerary, become her biggest layover.
Early Sunday morning we took the train to Boston for our Godson's wedding and watched from the window as towns, woodlands and beaches scrolled by. Saw the scorn of Irene's fury: trees split asunder if not uprooted and those left standing, scorched, their leaves already dropping, while others not 10 feet away stood fully adorned in their end of summer plumpness. And the train kept going. And then it stopped, not 40 minutes from Boston. In the middle of nowhere we listen to the conductor inform us that there is police activity on the tracks and it could be hours before we are allowed to continue.
What! Hours! No! Joel is the Officiant at the wedding. That's right, he has a one-day-only license to marry the Godson and his fiancee. It's a big wedding, intricately planned. And we're stuck on the tracks. Just as we're trying to figure out a solution the train starts to move. We will have just enough time to dash to the hotel, change into our outfits and get to the venue on time.
It's all so random. Boston is sticky with humidity, the sky threatening rain that will never come. The first taxi we get into is sullen and not air-conditioned. We get out of it and into another. We're tired and stoic and unwedding-y. Until we see Zeke, the groom, and suddenly we're energized and overjoyed and who cares about the heat and the high heels? Zeke and Michelle are getting married. And boy, do they get married! These 2 young people, whose lives have long been dedicated to helping others are now dedicating themselves to each other. And they do so with grace, and joy, and generosity, with thoughtfulness and intention, with kindness and inclusion, each of us implicitly aware of how we are a part of their lives and therefore of each other's.
It is one of those weddings that has it all: babies, toddlers, teenagers, 20-somethings and on up to us and beyond, to the grandmothers in their wheelchairs. It has a Havanageela that's sheer bacchanalia, it has schtick and swing and so-so food. Speeches written on sheets of paper and speeches straight from the heart. And perhaps more than anything, it has the momentary sigh of relief that in the random chaos of our 21st century world, 2 people who are so obviously made for each other actually found each other.
