The opposite of stress is peace.
Of which I was reminded by our weekend Lake Rabun hosts, whose lake home is captioned ‘Camp Peace’.
A tribute to their departed daughter, Emily; definitely living up to its intent.
So, consider last week’s post officially renamed Camp Peace, Nee Stress.
Camp Peace also an apt description of a destination wedding weekend – definitely the one we attended last weekend in Boston.
Weddings an era of peaceful feelings, for a few days, anyway.
A young couple in love, anticipating the future, friends and family nearby, cheering them on.
The marriage ceremony largely a Jewish rite, a new one for an old Catholic boy.
Though I’ve always thought Catholics and Jews had excessive guilt levels in common, an odd bonding feature. I’ve never been at a wedding where people said “I’m sorry” more frequently.
In addition to guilt, the wedding couple’s parents shared large families in common: 30 total siblings.
A highlight of the Father of the Bride (FOB) speech – which by the way, was both hilarious and sentimental, just the way I like it.
He mentioned asking his new son-in-law his impression of his mother-in-law’s family, and he replied… so many.
When asked about his father-in-law’s family, he replied: So many … questions.
Capturing the essential dynamic of My Captor’s family, the willingness/ability/interest in talking to anyone, anywhere.
Which I’m used to, and OK with. Up to a point.
It can lead to the ‘Alabama Goodbye’, the never-ending farewell conversations leading to that gnawing feeling of Can we just move on, and go home?
But it’s why My Captor knows virtually everyone on the beach, and I know them all too – – after she’s introduced me.
A sister-in-law diagnosed me with ‘Repressed Curiosity’, which I’d google if I were more interested. But agreed with.
In summary, a fine wedding, good time had by all.
The other part of a destination wedding is … the destination.
Boston thinks a lot of itself, most of it justified.
Making it think more of itself: The quaint stone walls, the amazing history around every corner, the local population with repressed curiosity.
But, the accents odder than the Southern drawl, their IPAs have haze in them, and it’s home to the world’s most overrated fishes: Lobster and scallops.
In summary, a great vacation destination.
It’s also home to two very close couple friends, kind enough to host us on the trip’s front and back ends.
Both incredibly gracious hosts.
Fine sleeping accommodations, great meals and local walking tours … oh, my!
We walked some ‘rail trails’ and visited Walden Pond, home to Henry Thoreau.
Who apparently ‘borrowed’ a friend’s cabin for a few months (an early squatter?), to “Live deliberately, front only the essential facts of life, and not when I come to die, discover I had not lived”.
He was a transcendentalist, believing deep truth was discovered through emotion and intuition rather than through rigid science.
The early inspiration for Instagram, and the belief the meaning of life could be found on your phone.
The visit leading me to make reading ‘Walden’ a New Years Resolution; a doubtful proposition, that. Ultimately, a victim of repressed curiosity…
It was followed by a nice lunch, so a net victory.
Both couples ‘comfortable friends’, who allowed us to do as much – or as little – as we wanted.
And we did very little – other than eat and chat. And chat.
As a thanks, I gave the second couple part of my sinus infection.
Amazing, one can write a post without being able to hear.
What?
ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC/READING’:
The new Bell X1 CD on the way, due 11/13. The singles Coughing Up Butterflies and But, First Love are out and quite good.
And Love Is Not Enough still available on Amazon. What a great read for anyone who has dealt with mental health or addiction issues. Or just wants to read about family love and recovery. And a great way to find out who Danny really was.