Posted by: rocketbride | November 18, 2012

scherezade & milos!

Another beautiful, quiet day. I got out for a run in the foggy morning, then church, then lunch and an afternoon showing of “Lincoln.” I haven’t found my way through many of the tasks I set for myself this weekend, but I can’t say it bothers me much.


So last weekend Scherezade got married. Or, to be more precise, last weekend Scherezade got married in a church, as she was married in a civil ceremony in Serbia back in April. This wedding ceremony was for her friends, for her parents, for the people she knew growing up. Three weeks ago at her wedding shower, my mom asked me who was going to be in her party, and I was embarrassed to say that I didn’t know, as well as sad because it was obvious that I wasn’t in it. When we saw her coming up the aisle, I realized that there was nothing to know, that without the need for witnesses to make it legal, they had streamlined the proceedings by not having a wedding party. And my jealous little heart was satisfied to know that the woman I had wanted as my own maid of honour hadn’t chosen anyone before me.

She was gorgeous, of course, wrapped in cream silk, a vintage reproduction that matched the elegant makeup and hair treatment that Destiny performed for her. She wore my own veil down the aisle, rescuing it from more than a decade of obscurity. I’m sure Milos also looked nice, but to be perfectly honest I stopped noticing anything after I saw that he had found pants for his tuxedo jacket. Scherezade, as she was for so many years and on so many occasions, was the one I looked at to see how high the bar was set.

We brought all the kids, an unexpected confluence that reminded me of my own parents taking my brother and I to family weddings. We learned from our mistakes at Juuki’s wedding and started getting dressed hours in advance. I had to buy nylons on the way to the church, though, just like last time.

Maggie was hilarious during the solemn Armenian ceremony: twisting and leaning from person to person, standing proudly in front of the pew, giggling during the prayers, singing one-note yawps during the minor-key hymns. We dressed her in a hand-me-down from Kat: a white velvet dress with furry cuffs and hem, and my mother’s birthday present of black squeaky mary janes. She was stunning, and during the reception Scherezade made a habit of scooping her up and carrying her to a table as she criss-crossed the room and spoke to each group.

Our boys were pretty amazing as well. In the tradition of well-dressed young boys at weddings everywhere, they were quickly dishevelled and as soon as their immediate hunger and thirst was satisfied by the appetizers and the open bar, they were running and twirling around the dance floor. At least they didn’t do what made my brother notorious at that age: run and slide on their knees until they were too sweaty to wear a proper shirt. We managed to get them under control when the serving staff were walking about, and we kept them from making a scene, and that was good enough for me.

They even favoured us with a dance. Blake has been loving “Gagnam Style” and when the d.j. put it on, he and Sage were the only ones dancing to it. I kept them company on the dancefloor, of course, but it was clear that I was only a distraction for the many people who were filming them with their phones.

They only problem with bringing kids to a wedding is that you have your hands full the whole time. We never had an uninterrupted conversation with the other people at our table, nor were we able to stay very late. We left almost immediately after the boys’ dance, fleeing so quickly that we left my favourite camera, Maggie’s favourite stuffed guy (Mickey Mouse) and her squeaky shoes.

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Responses

  1. […] Wedding bells! My apologies for the quality of these pictures; I was lazy about replacing the battery on my flash and it only worked one out of five times. Of the dozens we shot, these are the best. […]


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