We have survived another family wedding. In fact, this one was largely uneventful and generally pleasant. When I was younger, I wondered why there were so many what seemed to me stupid movies about dysfunctional weddings. Some fifteen years later, after having endured, and sometimes feeling like we barely survived, almost a score of family weddings, I no longer wonder, except perhaps why there aren’t more movies about murders at weddings, or even films noir.
A dear but departed friend once observed that while we can all choose our friends we don’t have that choice with our families. What I’ve noticed is that often an excess of family characteristics, each one perhaps admirable in itself, is multiplied by the presence of innumerable family members with that same characteristic confined in a small locale for too long a period can result in various forms of high temperature reactions and meltdowns.
Fortunately, the latest wedding was organized and orchestrated by a family member with great tact and skill, who also understood the need for the placement and spacing of volatile elements. But, then, maybe I’m just getting worn out after years of being expected to be the human equivalent of a reactor damping rod.
Or maybe it’s relief that there won’t be any more family weddings for a while — like years.