I have been so obscenely happy lately that every now and then I have to take a reality check. Like all the rest of us, I just received one. Right now, my heart goes out to every single person on the Virginia Tech campus.
I'm remembering what happened in my senior year of college. We had a suicide -- someone well-known and well-liked at school, who had left for a while because of mental illness and returned because he was supposedly better. His body was found among the rocks of a tributary to the Hudson, where he had clearly taken a high jump from a wooded precipice. Our entire campus mourned. We all knew Esteban, and we held memorials, and farewell parties, and sometimes just burst out crying in the middle of classes. But considering how one death affected us all, I can only imagine the scope of the tragedy in Virginia right now.
Ever since I became engaged, I've been giving it all away. I'm a much easier touch for the buskers and the pleading and the needy on my subway rides or on streetcorners. Somehow I just wish that everyone could be as happy I am, and so I've been trying to give whatever I can, whenever I can. And now this. I looked at G as we were listening to reports on the car radio this morning. I love him like crazy, and mostly I get a huge kick out of his often macabre humor, but today I cut him off at the pass. "Do me a favor," I said, taking a deep breath. "Don't even joke about this one." He looked over at me kindly, and kissed me. "Okay," he said.
A little while ago I confirmed my order of flowers for my wedding ceremony this Saturday evening. I was on the phone discussing Vandella roses and freesia and pale delphinium with the florist. And for a moment, I felt the way that I did on the days after September 11th, when I was picking out clothes to wear that day, or going grocery shopping, and I would be overwhelmed with guilt and shame for the fact that I had the luxury of choosing what to wear or what to eat when so many lay dead, so many were in mourning. There are people in Virginia also ordering flowers right now -- but not for wedding ceremonies.
I know that in the midst of grief, we are still in life. And my joy continues. We will be married on Saturday. We'll go to a lovely dinner at a beautiful restaurant that night, hosted by my in-laws. Our wedding night will be spent at a very posh hotel in midtown: the gift of dear friends. The next day, friends and colleagues will toast us at a cocktail party hosted by my brother and sister-in-law. Later on our family party will take place, on a Saturday in May, and the day after that there'll be a brunch, hosted by my dear cousin...and we'll all keep discussing menus and champagne and cupcakes and flowers and accomodations for elders and children. And more joy -- our niece and nephew will come into the world, hopefully in late May or in June. But with all that, my thoughts are in Virginia right now.
I try to think of something wise to say, but really, all that comes to mind is "hear, hear!" On the it's goddarn awful part, and the but we must live on-part. I hope you have a fantastic day this Saturday (and the days after that) And, allow a little pocket-philosphy from me here, Julie: the important part is that you know you're lucky, and that you appreciate it. And I know you know how to appreciate it. All the best to the both of you, from the both of us.
Posted by: Zarah Maria | April 17, 2007 at 05:41 PM
Dear Zarah, thanks so much to both of you for your words and your thoughts. We will have a beautiful day, I know it -- and you're right, our lives are remarkably heightened by our own gratitude.
Posted by: Julie | April 18, 2007 at 10:02 PM
Having danced at my nephews's wedding a few months after we suddenly lost my Dad in an auto accident, and knowing what it feels like to lose a child/young adult because we lost our son at 17 in an auto accident, the fact that you are able to both mourn with the bereaved families and rejoice in the gift of your love speaks volumes about what a good person you are.
Wishing you and your beloved a well-deserved day of happiness and joy and many, many years of a good life together.
Tributes like this are very much a source of comfort for the families. It helps to know that people care.
Posted by: Elle | April 18, 2007 at 11:37 PM
> And for a moment, I felt the way that
> I did on the days after September 11th,
> when I was picking out clothes to wear
> that day, or going grocery shopping, and
> I would be overwhelmed with guilt and
> shame for the fact that I had the luxury
> of choosing what to wear or what to eat
> when so many lay dead, so many were in
> mourning.
I remember that feeling so well. And I have thought that same thing many times this week. Have a lovely, lovely wedding.
Posted by: jen maiser | April 19, 2007 at 02:06 PM
Julie, I wish you and Geoff only love, blessings, and joy on your wedding day and every single day thereafter.
I love you lots,
Lea xxx
Posted by: Lea | April 21, 2007 at 03:02 AM
Elle and Jen and Lea and Tea and all my cherished friends that have come to me through this blog and many other places as well -- many many thanks for all your blessings and good wishes on this day. As they say, happy the bride the sun shines on -- a truer word was never spoken at least in my case. I'm off to be married!
Posted by: Julie | April 21, 2007 at 02:55 PM
The biggest joys and the biggest sorrows are in a way more alike than different. Both are like waking from a dream when compared to ordinary consciousness, and both can make us determined to be more awake, more of the time.
I wish you both all the very best, and am confident that you will continue to know just how to appreciate it.
For years and years.
Posted by: lindy | April 25, 2007 at 11:56 AM