California, Here We Come

At the table, Dave’s relatives, here for our wedding.

Part three of our wedding festivities went smoothly, probably because I hadn’t been to any Jewish weddings! Chuppa (wedding canopy)? We weren’t both Jewish at that point, so there wasn’t a need for that level of ceremony. Party favors? It felt like the ample festive bagels-and-all-the-trimmings meal, Nessa’s four beautiful and flavorful cakes, and comfortable seating ought to be enough. DJ? Never occurred to me.

Compared to the tiny 12-person gatherings at home or on campus that my own two previous weddings had been, this seemed far larger and more complex — but necessary, because Dave needed to invite long-time friends from the synagogue community and many other close friends. Of course, my three brothers plus their wives and children made up a dozen out of the 60 we could fit into the hotel’s conference room.

I did try for two added “wedding” traditions I’d heard about: A few women friends wanted to do a bridal shower, so I invited them to come over on the evening before we’d get married, to put flowers together as boutonnieres and table centerpieces and indulge in “girl talk.”

No DJ or band, but we girls knew how to dance anyway! I think this part was London Bridge Is Falling Down.

And I knew that dancing ought to be part of the “party” but didn’t have a clue to how people arranged…