a stormy wedding (literally)

A couple of months ago I am making plans to travel back to the Cape for M's son's wedding. The first thing that goes wrong is the transportation. No trains back to New York.  Something about track maintenance. I am forced to reserve a Peter Pan bus. Ugh!

Then mid last week, I get my hair cut. I'm not paying attention and when I look up, my hair is about two inches shorter than I like. I hate it and want to cocoon for the next two months.

And then comes the forecast. 

The beautiful outdoor wedding, that has been meticulously planned over the past year, must now be logistically rethought. An unusual September Nor'easter is heading straight for the Cape.

I take a train up on Friday. I like trains. I have my Kindle, the day's paper, and the NYT puzzles. I settle in for the four-hour ride. And then I can't find my reading glasses. Somewhere between waiting for the train and boarding it I lose them. The only thing I can do is enlarge my Kindle font to about two sentences per page. It becomes a very very long ride.

V picks me up in Boston. We have lunch and then head to the Cape.  As soon as we go over the bridge, the rain starts. And then doesn't stop for three days.

Everyone is staying at Autocamp, in glammed up Airstreams. In the summer it'd be nice. In monsoon-like weather it is challenging.

The wedding is at Bourne Farm, just three miles away. We are being transported by busses. All the guests show up in the clubhouse covered in clear plastic ponchos and matching booties. 

I chose to wear rain and mud-resistant shoes that totally don't match my evening dress, but no one cares.

The weather continues.

I am not writing details about the magnificent wedding (not my story to tell) and the events around it. But I will say it was the most celebratory event I think I've ever attended. The love and affection among the many guests, some of whom had traveled great distances to attend (including California and China), was pervasive.

The ceremony is under a small tent, and we move to a much larger tent for the dinner and dancing. Fairy lights are everywhere and it truly is magical. 

But then a pole collapses from the torrential downpour. An announcement is made that we need to evacuate immediately and buses take us back to Autocamp where the festivities continue seamlessly.

On Sunday, V and I drive back to Boston where I catch the bus. The weather continues to be relentless. I love the sound of rain on the roof when sleeping in my Airstream. Though negotiating the big mud puddles outside my trailer door is less fun.

The dreaded bus ride home turns out to be great. A woman gets on in Hartford and sits next to me. We start talking about something inconsequential which leads to more conversation regarding our kids, husbands or lovers, politics, growing up, our parents, watch bands, cell phone carriers, theater and so much more. By the time we arrive in NY (which goes by quickly), we exchange info and hope to stay in touch.

The weather added drama to the weekend and subtracted nothing.  It's a wedding that will forever be remembered