Who is Coming?

That is the question I ask myself everyday--and my parents, as I continue to call them with this very question on my way home to the metro from work. Who has written their response, sealed the envelop and dropped it in the mail, to arrive at my parents' house a day or three later (depending, of course, on geographic proximity to Washington). At first, the responses were pouring in. One day, we even had nine, which my parents brought to me (it happened to also be the first day of Passover, so they were here for our sedar) and I eagerly ripped open, excited to see who could come, or who had to decline. But after the early flood, the responses have been slower. A few days, there haven't been any. Ususally, though, it's one or two, sometimes more. We're in the mushy middle of the May 5 response deadline, I fear. Cinco de mayo isn't exactly around the corner (everything is relative at this point. At the near end of the wedding planning, there is a ton to accomplish between today and tomorrow), so within the few days, even week, I imagine the slow steady trickle to continue. Then, as with any deadline--for work, school, or play--the pace will pick up, the number of envelopes pushed through my parents' door will skyrocket. And the answers, the yeses and the nos, will be known.

Say Cheese

Last Saturday, on a quintessentially perfect Washington spring day, Dan and I got some engagement photographs taken. As part of the photographer's package, we had a "casual shoot" at the National Arboretum. With the sun shining high in the clear sky and the air filled with the smell of purple lilac, we tried to act natural as the photographer skillfully captured us walking, talking, laughing and kissing (she told us to!!). It felt a little awkward at first to be the focus of the photographer's lens, but slowly we got used to it. Like I said, the stunning environs helped put us at ease. The pictures came out great. And it got me thinking, how cameras can just hold a moment so well, long after the day has passed. I think that's partly why people invest so much in wedding photography, the pictures last a lot longer than the eight hours a wedding does. And so, I've gotten more of an appreciation for photos, and their ability to keep things alive. Last night, my friend Andrea was telling me about her own burgeoning photography and flickr site, making me want to buy my own nice camera and capture everything.

Breathing Lessons

As wedding energy pumps up, I take a minute to slow down. Things, I feel, are going at a whirlwind pace. Everyday, I wonder who else has RSVPed, everyday the to-do list gets updated, with items checked off and new tasks to tackle. It's tough to stay calm. I feel the wedding that was once more than a year away growing closer and closer. I don't feel behind, or disorganized, or worried. These final days are just a ton of balls in the air, though. The devil is in the details, and boy are there a lot of devils. But you know what else is coming more into focus: the rest of my life! My life past the wedding, with its catered food and music and dancing and family and friends. Just this week, I was looking at the calendar for the rest of the year (trying to figure out vacation days for the honeymoon), and Dan and I were talking about a September trip to Chicago for a friend's wedding and the High Holidays. It's a comforting feeling, knowing that there really is life after wedding, because with all the planning and focus on that big day, sometimes I lose track of that fact. And so, as the day draws nearer, I am trying to remember to breathe deeply, enjoy the final days of planning, and look forward to the big event and the many other big events thereafter.

Mindful Twittering

As time trickles down toward the wedding (less than two months to go...I can't believe it), I thought I might need something in addition to the blog to update my readers on the latest nuptial news. Time is more limited now, and things are happening faster. In fact, just today, my mindful groom ordered our wedding bands (as in the rings, not the music) and dropped off information necessary for our marriage certificate. The details have sprung into action--no longer is it "find a venue for the reception" but "start doing seat assignments." We've hired a caterer, but now we need to decide between yakitori or citrus marinated salmon fillets. For cupcakes--vanilla or chocolate? Mango or raspberry sorbet? Traditional or modern ketubah? The planning stage is more intense, more fast-paced, but I am trying to remember to relax, to have fun with the details, and to twitter about them. So check me out on my new twitter site: www.twitter.com/mindfulbride. But don't worry, I'm still a mindful blogger, too!

Who's Coming?

Now, the exciting part begins: getting the RVSP notes. We had the responses sent to my parents' house, so almost every day I call them, begging them to tell me 1) how many of the off-white, self-addressed envelopes returned to them 2) what the letters inside said. And so, one or the other of them finds the mail, sorts out the response cards, and reads each message out loud to me. More often than not, Dan is in the background, and I convey my parents' message to him. I purposely left the response card blank--a tip I learned from a bridal magazine--to encourage creative responses from our guests. So far, their poignant witticisms haven't disappointed me. What did disappoint me was yesterday, when none of the responses came in the mail. I actually felt sad, and both Dan and my dad told me, "That's it. There are no more guests coming." Fortunately, that's not true, because four more "yeses" arrived in the mail today. I spoke to my mother at 8pm to get the latest update. And, as I prepare for sleep, I only wonder what I'll learn tomorrow.

Meaning in Matzah

2009 is just full of firsts: last night, Dan and I hosted an inaugural sedar. A small sedar, but a sedar nonetheless, complete with horse radish, haroset (the delicious apple and nut concoction), matzah, and all the other traditional Passover delicacies. We passed over the standard brisket in favor of chile-rubbed salmon fillet topped with an avocado pineapple salsa. My parents came over, bringing the ever popular matzah ball soup, some wine, and chocolates for dessert. It was a small, cozy sedar honoring the importance of freedom and liberation, and as we read the prayer book, one line stayed with me. "Every generation must find freedom for itself." I am sure this line can be interpreted several ways, but on the eve of my wedding (I'm speaking figuratively here...it's not literally tomorrow), I was thinking that every person must carve his or her own path as they grow up. They should have the freedom to choose their job, their home, their hobbies, their friends, and their life partners. The choices aren't always easy, and like the leavened bread we forego for eight days, they come with certain sacrifices. But in the end, these choices help define who were are.

Please RSVP By...

The invitations arrived. A square shaped piece of paper, with Elissa and Daniel written in big silvery gray cursive letters at the top. (A whimsical, slightly less formal cursive). The text below is in the same font and color, only smaller. The whole invitation is framed with a one-eighth inch of the same silvery gray hue. If you turn the invitation to its back side, it is a solid silver gray. I think they came out beautifully, if I do say so myself. Last week Dan and I spent the evenings stuffing the invites, placing the invitations ever so delicately inside the silver-lined envelope. In another process, we stuffed directions, parking information, and a response card inside the response envelop, which we then added to the larger invitation envelope. Then came stamp time. Rather than affix an ugly $1.00 stamp to each envelope, I splurged for two, much nice $.42 and $.59 stamps (price $1.01). Then, with everything glued, stuffed, inserted, Dan dropped them off, where they'll travel all across the world.

Surprise!

This morning I woke up, and thinking of my long wedding to-do list, I nudged Dan out of sleep. "Dan" I said. "You know what we should do?" "What" he replied sleepily. "We should just get married TODAY!" "What?" he repeated. I went on to recite the nuptial-related errands, everything from mailing out invitations to finalizing the menu to picking out the wedding-day attire. "I am not saying we shouldn't have THAT wedding, but wouldn't it be so nice just to already be married, so when June 7th comes around, we can relax, knowing that we are already hitched," I explained, excited growing in my voice. We could get married today. We could go to sleep tonight husband and wife. Dan sat up in bed, thinking for a second. "It's an intriguing plan," he said. "Do you think the rabbi could come on such short notice?" I hesitated. Like most rabbis, ours is over-extended and always busy. Getting him to come with no advance warning was more or less impossible. But sure enough, he had a cancelled appointment, and was able to squeeze our ceremony in. Keeping with tradition, I wore a white skirt and matching top; Dan put on his favorite black corduroy blazer with the suede elbow patches, a crisp white shirt, and dark gray slacks. The event happened so quickly, in such a blur, that I really can't remember much else. Except the date: April 1st!!!