here comes a bride

My sister is getting married! My baby sister. Sweet Pentyne. Well finally…. a wedding I want to attend! Hell, not only attend, I expect a behind the scenes role of some sort.

: that was my not so subtle hint, sweetie; ahem, did you catch that? :

The wedding will take place next year at a nice little park with ducks and swans. It was only five years ago that I was there at one of our family picnics, pregnant and stuffing fallen corn husks into empty hot dog roll bags while keeping a sharp eye out for deserted paper plates with scraps of fruit salad to go into my compost pile at home. Perhaps Pentyne will by then have a compost of her own and I could do the same for her. Because I know she won’t let me anywhere near the wedding cake; what with my nifty substituitions in the name of health. Such a shame.

I will not marry, myself; no, thank you very much. I have only one set of formal plans in place, the rest I just improvise as I go along. Someday, when I part this earth, there are orders…I mean, gentle reminders…regarding how I would like my body to be escorted out; things involving cremation, poetry, possibly bagpipes, and a quiet send-off into a moving body of water; river or ocean, I don’t care, as long as I’m NOT in some stagnant pond, contained for all eternity. Throw me into the nearest fountain if you must. I need to be sort of metaphorically moving around and going somewhere, and as long as those needs are met, I promise not to scorch the earth beneath the feet of any of my loved ones. I make no promises regarding ghostly frolics; er, visitiations, or other wierdness; I can’t possibly be expected to resist such fun if it’s available.

It surprises and somewhat amuses the kiddo’s babci that I have already thought of these things, but hey, her Polish genes have proven to live to 100 and beyond; she has time to plan. I’m not taking any chances. Any serious relationship I agree to always involves a careful segue into a discussion of these matters.

Babci giggles at me when I mention that will NOT, whatsoever, under any circumstances save for a few chosen family members, be viewed. But if she knew my 13 year old self, the one who barked orders to anyone within 50 feet of me, “stop looooooking at me!, “Don’t TOUCH me! Just Don’t!”, she wouldn’t bat an eye at my supposed wierdness. It’s ok, though, my father laughed at me too. But I haven’t changed. I’m an affectionate mama, but I’m otherwise not the touchy-feely sort. The thought of laying in some box while someone I barely knew in passing – or worse– didn’t even like, tenderly presses my hand or strokes my cheek while I’m stuck there, frozen as concrete and unable to grab them and give them the whatfor, creeps me out.

How did I even get on this?

I’ll not be going anywhere anytime soon. And this wedding is much, much more exciting. I wish my sweet Pentyne the very, very best. And I’ll try not to slip anything green, healthful, or socially conscious into the wedding favors, k? I could make you, dear one, a beautiful, elaborate paper wedding dress if you’re up for it though. Dare ya!

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7 Responses to “here comes a bride”


  1. 1 Puppycup July 30, 2007 at 8:01 pm

    Of course I would love to have you and the kiddo in the wedding =) A bridesmaid and flower girl =) I think a ritual should be performed as well sometime under a full moon at midnight–for good weather and fortune and I promise to keep the stooge work down to a minimum haha

    It should be fun for all–assuming I can control dear mom–I think my invite list grows everytime I talk to her O_o The question is will I cave or fight convention–I really don’t know. I’ve a feeling that people that once would have been strictly banned on personal principle will be there–even if I don’t want them there…I’ve gotten soft over the years in regards to this. Youthful Pentyne would be so disappointed 😉

  2. 2 petitmuse July 30, 2007 at 10:23 pm

    a full moon with wine? that would be a good idea. Um, I don’t need to be IN the wedding, per se, I’m too shy. I’d rather do something or make something…no food, promise :> And I’ll bring my camera for some casual snaps too. Whatever you need, I’m there. It will be fun, yes. :>

  3. 3 Doktor Holocaust July 31, 2007 at 5:28 am

    I have often pondered my own Great Departing, and I have settled on a Viking funeral in which my remains (or cremains, to make more room) are stuffed into a vehicle of some sort laden with book collection (as in the out-of-print roleplaying games that were sucha big inspiration to me in college, and the comic books) along with a few other cherished possessions and then the whole thing is to be lit on fire and sent off into the water to sink.

    marriage and breeding are out of the question for me due to certain genetic mutations from birth and idiosyncracies picked up by falling madly in love with the entirely wrongest sort of person for me when I was younger and foolish and not yet Dok Holocaust, so there will be no descendants to do this for me. I may have to rig it up myself, or hope that my sister has kids who will do their wacky uncle one last, pyromaniacal favor.

  4. 4 Puppycup July 31, 2007 at 7:16 pm

    too shy? aw c’mon be brave–I’d do it for you =) Besides I’m more apt to get the kiddo to march down th eaisle if momma is there to cling to : though perhaps by then she’ll want to be the center of attention–an auntie can wish:

    As for the remains part, I’m in agreement with the whole cremation thing–but I’m not sure I would want to be tossed in the ocean or a river–i get the idea of wanting movement but to be honest while I love looking at the ocean and rivers–being in them is quite another story. I keep trying to convince the soon to be Mr Puppycup that he will need to be practical when this time inevitabley comes–a cremation with a flattering photograph for any mourners. A tasteful urn and that he should keep me until he’s certain of where’s he’s going to be–or certain of a place he could return to. Somehow I wouldn’t mind being scattered among a nice flower garden in a back yard–or let go at a place meaningful to us both–where he might like to return from time to time. I think it’s different from a cemetary that way. They feel so obligational–something to tend to and feel guilty about if you don’t return often.

  5. 5 petitmuse July 31, 2007 at 10:36 pm

    i’m just glad that funerals are more personal and less formulaic than in the past.

    you know, the more i think of it, the more excited i get about your wedding! i’m sure the kiddo will love the attention, absolutely.

  6. 6 Bets August 1, 2007 at 7:00 am

    ummmhum. I do believe it’s a sister’s duty to do what ever the bridal sister wants of her. Ummmmhum. That’s what I think.

    As for me, burn me up, churn my ashes into the earth and plant a tree above me. That will be all the monument I need.

    ps. congrats, pup. my baby sister was married this summer – it was a grand fete. bonne chance, petite.

  7. 7 Doktor Holocaust August 1, 2007 at 8:06 am

    I don’t quite understand weddings from the guest’s point of view. I’ve been to some, and it’s miserable. waiting in line for a half hour or so just to get some finger foods, annoying music, lots of strangers around and the only people in the room I knew were too busy getting married to stop and chat. I coulda stayed home and watched cartoons.

    Should I ever wed (as unlikely as that is), it’s going to be strictly Short Duration Marriage, using Spurious-brand ShortDurMarriage certificates printed on flash paper and dated to expire just after the honeymoon. If all parties agree, it may turn into something we do more often.


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