Which Dress, and what about the Groom

     Some of you have asked me which mermaid
dress I am wearing. This is a back view of it. I am having the sash decked with bling, the dress adjusted and a veil made. When this is done I will post a big "reveal" picture.

     Now on to Ric's clothing. It is customary for the groom in a Jewish wedding to wear white. In a very traditional wedding he would wear a Kittel, a white

robe that men wear at their wedding, on high holy days and are buried in. I asked Ric if he wanted one and he looked at me a bit aghast. It seems that he only knew about usage of a kittel for burial, and was a bit....concerned....that I was planning his funeral attire even before the wedding.

     So OK...no Kittel. We managed to fit in a shopping trip when my Mom was here for Mother's day, forced him to try on clothes, and bought an ivory colored shirt and vest which will go with some light colored pants he has. In fact, he is going to wear this outfit to the other weddings we are attending this year.

     We have three so far on the calendar. The first is in Israel next week. We leave on Monday for a wild celebration. I promise to post pictures. We will be standing under the chuppa with my cousin as her eldest daughter is married. I will have the honor of escorting the kallah (Hebrew word for bride) to the mikvah before the wedding (more about that later when I go before my own wedding).

     No...my wedding dress is not going on this trip since I have not worn it at my own wedding yet. However it did occur to me that since I am having a second wedding I should have a second proposal. So I mentioned to Ric that it would be very romantic if he proposed to me in Israel...and made it a photo-op.

   I am not sure how he took that suggestion since it followed on the heels of the Kittel misunderstanding. We will get this all sorted out, I am sure. I do hope I have not scared the "Chosson" (Hebrew word for bridegroom) off at this late date. How embarassing would that be for me...the kallah.
  
   
  

Music

     Performing music at any joyous occasion is considered a religious obligation and a wonderful mitzvah (good deed). The music style matches the cultural tradition. So this should be easy...right? Maybe a little Jimmy Buffet mixed in with the bridal march? Not really.
    Jimmy Buffet would be fine, but the bridal march heard at most American weddings is out. The piece is from the opera Lonengrin, which was written by Wagner, who was a known anti-Semite whose music was played at Dachau as the Jews were forced into the gas chambers. Clearly, we need something a bit different for the procession.
    There are some tradition Jewish tunes played at weddings that are based on the poems from Song of Songs set to music. There are some beautiful choices from these partly mystical, partly lyrical, slightly sexual biblical verses.
   Dodi li, I am my Beloved's:

And then there is Erev Shel Shoshanim


     The words are lovely and the melodies remind me of songs just beyond my thoughts. Songs I seem to know even though I have never heard them, as if the musical riffs are coded in my DNA, or perhaps they are my DNA code. I remember the medicine woman I studied with telling me that when we are in tune with our spiritual voice we can remember the lessons our elders left behind, even if we have never heard them. So maybe this is a good sign.

     This is especially poignant for me now, because we leave for Israel in less than a week, and I know that the stones in the ground in the walls will sing to me. When we were there four years ago I realized that the stones in Israel sang to the ancient Jews the way that the rocks in Mesa Verde sang to the ancient Anasazi. The stones sang to us, and we took those songs and sang them back as prayers. And for thousands of years those rocks both in the ground, and those making up the walls and fortresses have been listening to the prayers that echo from the humans. The rocks sing prayers to us that we sense and sing, and then hear echoing back. This the Israel I experienced.

     And now back to the music for the wedding. No Wagner, no organ, and probably not Jimmy buffet, so what does that leave? How about a traditional Ashkenazi eastern European sound...the klezmer band.


Listen to the Klez dispensers:

The Klez dispensers

     Jewish music is always a mixture of joyous and sad, lively and melodic, and the words are lyrical...in another language. It is impossible to listen to a klezmer band and keep your feet quiet. We do not know how many people will actually be at the wedding...somewhere between 10 and 30 perhaps...but we are sure they will be dancing.

Flowers????

     I have been focusing on the Jewish elements of the wedding, and forgot a few of the other things that go into a  wedding. So on Friday when there was nothing going on at work...since it was the Friday before a three day weekend...my wonderful, amazing, talented and so well organized right-hand Administrative supervisor...lovingly called T....asked me what I was going to do about a bridal bouquet. Wow...a bridal bouquet. What a great idea. I honestly had not thought about this detail and asked T, of the soon to be created T bridal planning, if she could make me one.

     What ensued was an amazing conversation complete with assignments, for me,  about many details of the wedding. She had done her homework and knew the elements of the Jewish wedding that I had to plan for, as well as the little details like bouquets and table decorations and photography and invitations.

     We started with the bouquests and looked through pictures on the internet so we could focus on what I might like. We saw the typical bouqets made of roses and lilies and carnations and then....something turquoise.

Something different and unique and something so...well so mermaid. That was it, I was done with flowers, I wanted am all mermaid wedding. something that was so profoundly me.

So we kept looking and T found something even more mermaid, something perfect. Something she said we could make.

Something a mermaid would carry, a shell

bridal bouquet that could travel with the wedding

dress.  We are clearly going all mermaid all the time for this wedding.

Have you ever googled mermaid weddings? there is not much there. This is clearly not a common theme. Mermaid birthday parties with that odd Disney story mermaid...that is SO not reflective of how mermaids EALLY act (check out my mermaid blog). But no mermaid weddings.

   But thanks to T, we have a plan. We are making shell and candle pieces for the tables. we are making a bouquet fit for a mermaid.

We are having a beach wedding in the mountains of Colorado.

                     

On to the Ketubah

     The Ketubah is a vital part of any traditional Jewish wedding. A ketubah is a contract given by the man to his future wife that describes his obligations to her. Even though the original ketubahs describe the husband as "obtaining" he wife for a certain dowry, the document itself actually was rather progressive for women. The main purpose was to prevent a husband from divorcing his wife against her will. The ketubah also spelled out how he would treat her, including his obligation to please her sexually.
     The ketubah went out of favour for many years, but is now making a come back. There is a tradition in Judaism to beautify scared objects, or any objects used in a ritual. So the ketubah has moved from simply a legal document to an artistic expression of the marriage. They have become so popular that even non-Jews are using them.
     So the first challenge was for Ric, the artist, and I to agree on the visual aspects of the ketubah. And there are dozens of websites with hundreds of options. We found some time, curled up on the couch with my laptop and started paging through ketubah choices. I like blues...he likes reds. I did not like abstracts...he liked the Chigall abstract. I liked the Jewish stained glass look...he like the Irish images. And so it went.
    
     And then we both saw an image that took us
back in time. In all the craziness of the first

wedding we did manage a short honeymoon

in Cabo San Lucas. On day we took a sail

boat out to a beach near a rock arch and swam

in the warm water. This ketubah has a water color

painting of that arch. What a lovely link between the

past and the future.

     Of course, we were not done. Next, we had to pick the wording. There are several choices for the wording on a ketubah. Do we go with the orthodox version or the egalitarian? How much Hebrew and how much English? Some are so sappy and some are so legal.

Some have room for only the witnesses to sign, and some have room for the rabbi, the bride and the groom. So many choices. We finally picked on that seemed to reflect our thoughts. A bit about love, a bit about our future and a bit about G-d.

The Kabbalists talk about a mystical reason for the ketubah. The original word for men and women was "aish" or fire. After G-d married Adam and Eve each took on a piece of the holy name unpronounceable name of G-d which is spelled yod-hay-vav-hay. 

Rabbi Akiba told the story this way: “the Hebrew word for man is ish, spelled aleph, yod, shin.  Remove the yod and you have aleph, shin or esh, meaning fire.  The Hebrew word for woman is ishah, spelled aleph, shin heh.  Remove the heh and, once again, you have esh, meaning fire."


So within each of us there is a consuming fire that can be passionate or destructive. When we marry the two fires are brought together, and if not properly tended can destroy the marriage. We cannot quench the fire, because it is human passion. Nor can we leave the fire to burn untended.
    
     So with the marriage and the ketubah we join into a partnership with the scared, and the letters yod and heh turn the fires into men and women.  In that way, we retain our inner fire, but become more that just our passions. We become our best selves, using our passions to help each other and to work as shining lights in the world. 
      Hopefully our ketubah will help our inner fires enlighten and brighten our lives and the world around us.
     `

Not what I meant to write

       This post was supposed to be about buying the ketubah, the Jewish marriage contract. But another funeral got in the way. Today we buried my dear friend and mentor Ira. For those of you who do not know, Jewish funerals are meant to help the mourners cry. And they work.
     One of the Ira's sons read a poem about his father being is north and south and east and west from Funeral Blues  by W H Auden. My heart opened and called out to my father with these words, the way the young man before me was calling out in pain to his father. I watched the two brothers acting as pall-bearers and remembered keeping my tears in as I helped carry my father. I remembered transporting my brother home and wrapping his ashes in a tallit.
     We as a community managed to leave the sanctuary and drive to the graveside where mournful prayers are sung as the plain pine casket is lowered into the ground. And then the mourners perform a last act of kindness for the deceased; they shovel dirt into the grave. First the immediate family and then all the mourners. This is not just a ritualistic clod of dirt; we as a community bury our loved one.
     When that first shovelful of dirt hit the flat top of the pine box, my solar plexus imploded. I had to wrap my arms around my body to keep the pain of contained. But the shoveling continued and as the pain grew too big to be held tightly it started to leak out of my eyes. I heard pain spill from the throats of those around me. We all started to weep as we lined up to help bury our friend.
     After the tearing of the mourners clothes, a final act to symbolize their pain and to help them weep, we formed a corridor for the family to walk through so they could feel our love as they returned to the dark black silent limo. I walked back to my car with tears streaming down my face wishing I could call my dad. It has been 25 years since he died, and I will miss him. He was my north and south and east and west. He will still not be at my wedding. 
     After keeping my tears in check at my father's and my brother's graveside, I allowed myself to weep and sob over a man who was larger than life. I am sure he is already telling jokes to G-d. And with this image I am able to laugh and cry for all those we have lost.
     There is one last Jewish custom that I want to mention here. After the death of a loved one a mourner often takes on a pledge to perform a special mitzvah for a year or more in honor of the one who has passed. This is seen as being an "allya for the neshama," a raising of the soul, for the person who has died. Ira's nephew pledged to use Ira's birthday every year and a time to be a bit kinder and wiser. I pledge to honor Ira by living up to his examples and mentoring advice in terms of jobs and my involvement with my spiritual community.
     How symbolic and appropriate that I was once again laying a part of me to rest before I step fully in into my next adventure.
     On to the Ketubah.
    
     

Funerals and Weddings

     How odd that this story started with the story of a funeral, and now at the beginning of the journey I am having a week of funerals. In some wild way I seem to re-living parts of the first wedding, with the chance to make different choices.
     Today I attended the Catholic funeral of a friend's mother, who was clearly much loved and who was a model of a life well lived. She had adventures and loved fully. She touched her many children, grandchildren and great grandchildren in memorable and loving ways.
     The rituals, words and theology were different, but the intention was the same. We honor those who have passed by promising to remember them. We affirm that there is some sense of life beyond our daily experience. We assure each other that the spirits of those who have passed will be with us at our joyous occasions.
     We gravitate to the children at a funeral, so happy to see life renewing itself. We hug the engaged couple, so happy that life cycles will continue. And yet we are wonder how the world around us can keep moving when we have suffered such a loss. I remember looking at the LA freeway on the way to bury my father wondering how all these people could be going somewhere when I had such a hole in my hear.
     In the Jewish tradition we encourage the mourners to grieve. We do not talk with them until they are ready to talk. We help them rip their clothes, the sound of which often helps them cry. We bring food and say prayers and create a sacred space for grief. We postpone joyous occasions until a minimal time of mourning has passed. The family will often sit "shiva" for seven days, staying home and not venturing out into the world. The community will bring food and come for prayers. They can be alone if they wish. They do not talk if they do not want to. They do not entertain the visitors. They are immersed in the sacredness of mourning.
     And yet my joyous occasion, my wedding went on (almost) as scheduled. My father ordered it. He told us that no matter what happened, i was supposed to get married. My grandmother did not believe in the "old ways" and expected my mother to have coffee and food ready for the visitors. There was no room for my grief, in fact it was barely allowed. So in my grief I still had to honor my father's wishes and get married.
     This time I intend to cry at funerals before I laugh and dance at any weddings. I intend to let my emotions flow without holding them "appropriately" in check. I want to model the life I heard about so vividly today and live a live fully. I want to live a life worth exmaining and singing about. From grief to joy, from tears to laughter, from funerals to weddings, I intend to have a year of fullness and life.

Shared traditions

     It is funny how some traditions have the same notions about spiritual journeys. Ric is part Chiricahua Apache, and from the native tradition we learn that a spiritual journey begins as soon as we state our intention to travel on a path. The Jewish tradition has a similar notion about weddings. As soon as the couple agrees to wed that journey starts. So the journey to our wedding started as soon as we had the conversation to have a Jewish wedding.
     A second shared notion is that a woman is a bride for a year after the wedding. In both traditions the wedding is much more than a one day or one week event, rather it is a year of spiritual exploration and growth. The wedding ritual is a doorway to a deeper spiritual connection, with every element having a mystical meaning.
     The is a Midrash, a story that fills in the biblical gaps, that G-d braided Eve's hair and adorned her with twenty-four adornments for her wedding to Adam in the Garden of Eden. I love to think about re-enacting this moment by taking care with my dress and veil and braiding my hair.
     So today I took the dress to the tailor for a hem and a few other adjustments. She is going to make my veil and bling up the belt a bit. I left wondering if there is a blessing for a tailor. I could not find one, but knowing that there is a Jewish blessing for everything, I will do some more searching. If the tailor is helping adorn me, surely there is a blessing for her work, a way to remind me to honor her work as part of this spiritual journey.

Day Two Dress hunting

     With my head full of mermaids and images of dresses from the first day, I headed back out for more shopping. I was not expecting a magical moment, a la "Say Yes to the Dress" but I was expecting beautiful dresses and lots of laughter. That is exactly what I got.

     We started at a bridal warehouse with a great sale rack and dresses we could buy off the rack.  
    I grabbed dresses that I might
not of thought of and tried them on. Beautiful dresses...some weighing up
to 40 pounds. So looked silly...really silly

Some looked amazing, really, but

did not seem like dresses that would

travel to beaches or sailboats....

or even Disneyland.   

Some weighed 40 pounds and felt like blankets. Maybe a bit piratical...

but still too heavy.

One was lovey...but too big and too difficult to tailor. but WOW lovely. Actually the top could be tailored, but the train would be a disaster.

Oh, and it was really heavy. If we had been having a one shot wedding, this would have been it. But I realized that all of these were beautiful dresses, and most of them looked lovely on me. I did not need to find the most beautiful dress, I had to have a wonderful experience. And find a dress that would journey well.

So back to the first store and more lovely dresses. Amazing mermaids. Lots of them. But very few meant for a wild journey. Very few seemed

to have the spirit of adventure

that I was looking for.

Every dress I tried on had fans. People walked by and cheered the dress and me. They had heard about the traveling wedding dress and wanted to vote and participate. They wanted dresses that would travel and weddings that would go on and on.

At some point in the fun of people telling me how lovely I looked in each dress, that this was less about the dress and more about me.  I realized that I was looking for

a piece of myself that has been in

hiding for years. A wild mermaid

piece. An adventurer piece. A way of thinking and being in the world that is creative and wild and dynamic and unpredictable. But

living large does not require a large dress. It required a dress that would travel and change and adapt.

     So with the help of Anastasia, I went back to a mermaid dress that wrapped me and promised to change and travel and help me find myself. It promised not to steal the show, but to help me define the show. It promised to let me shine as whoever I want to be.

So the mermaid that Anastasia picked out for me has come home with me. It needs a bit of tailoring, but not much. We seem made for each other.

On to the Ketubah and the wedding date.

                               

Day one dress hunting

     My Mom flew in on Friday to start the hunt. I had scoped out four stores in Denver. One mega store, one warehouse and two resale shops. They all had potential. If you are looking for dresses for your wedding, but sure to check out the resale shops. They have amazing deals, and dresses can be altered if you find something close to what you want.

     Of course I had watched the "Say Yes to the Dress" shows and loved all the high end gowns. But I also have a sense of reality. I do not expect that "magic" dress moment. I do not expect to spend thousands on a dress. Besides, I need something that could adapt to all seasons, all places, and all adventures. I need...a dress for all seasons...great title for a book. And I do not have time to order the dress. I have to find something that I can wear this summer. 

     So we went hunting. 

     The first place was great fun. Lots of mirrors...it reminded us of a Alice in Wonderland setting. I tried on dresses that I had picked out online with a "destination" them. Chiffon. A bit of ruching. Lots of white

So many reflections of myself, Ric, and my Mom, 

and so much white. But nothing great

Nothing me.

And then this wonderful consultant followed her 

instincts and pulled a dress I never thought of...

a mermaid style.

OK, if you have known me for over a week you know

that I love one thing, and have loved one thing

since I was five....mermaids.

Adore, write about, dream about and collect.

But did it occur to me to try on a mermaid dress...

of course not. In fact, I was not sure that I even wanted to try it on. 

By this time we are all laughing and joking and having a wild good time. So why not try on a dress that was not what I wanted.

Why not try on something

snug and form fitting

and lovely and......

fit for a mermaid?

 Why not try on something
that is clingy and 
lovely and soft?


Why not try on something
that will adapt?

Why not be a mermaid?

We have another place to visit tomorrow.

But now, after hours of 

laughter, it is home for Shabbat.

To be continued. 

Wedding dress of the past

As I mentioned, we started with a $50 dollar wedding dress off the sale rack that I altered. I had seen a dress in a painting once, with one sleeve and one arm bare. This was not a common style 25 years ago. My friend Anita was with me when we found a dress with long sleeves and a turtle neck. She immediately saw a way to turn it into the dress in the painting.

And there I was with a dress

I had seen in a painting. Tight around the waist,

a bit Gothic and a bit goddess, with a touch of native in the hair. It worked and I loved it. My Dad 

wanted something more "feminine", and my grandmother wanted something more acceptable that she could understand. But it was what I had.  

I have tried in on a couple months ago when we had the idea of getting married again. It still fit...well the middle was a bit loose and the arm was a bit tight...bit it would have worked. But all I could see was that weekend of funeral/wedding and my need to be practical with money.

So the dress went to Goodwill with my blessings that it would make a great dress for someone else, or a Halloween costume. 

I am going to try on dresses 

The Idea

     Once Ric and I decided to have a wedding, we had to decide where. Of course I wanted to hold the ceremony bare-foot on a beach or on a ship at full sail. Both of these sound wonderful, but are much more difficult to arrange than one might think. Oh, and more expensive. I wanted my cousins and friends involved, but they are scattered across the US. To top it off, it is cheaper to fly my friend and rabbi from Denver to LA for the wedding than to arrange for a rabbi (who would not know me) there.
     I almost had it pulled together. And then we decided to go to Israel for my cousin's wedding (this is clearly the year of weddings!). So, on to plan B. We will have the wedding here in Denver. Then we will spend the year traveling, wedding dress in tow, to see cousins and friends and wonderful places, and take lots of pictures.
     This means that I can be in my wedding dress bare-foot on the beach, on a ship at full-sail, at the top of a mountain, at the art museum, and who knows where else, surrounded by friends and family. Oh....and the newfy at some point.
     Stay tuned. The next step is the dress. We are on the hunt this weekend.

The Plan

The plan is this:
1. buy a new dress
2. have a wedding
3 spend the year traveling with the dress to see friends and cousins and great places
4. take lots of pictures

The Backstory

    Before I can start documenting the journey, I have to explain how it started almost 25 years ago.

     Ric and I were planning our wedding on a short time frame. My Dad, who I adored, was in the Veterans Nursing home in Los Angeles, and we were to be married on the grounds outside his room, with a very small guest list. He was suffering from extreme arthritis, but had symptoms that led to the amputation of both legs below the knee. His doctors continued to assure us that he would be fine, but none of us believed them.
     Ric and I were broke. The year prior I had lost my job as a geologist and was now in graduate school and working full-time in a lab. Ric had work as a carpenter, though he often had to fight to get paid. To top it off, my 13 year old step-daughter was living with us. We were stretched and stressed, and barely able to pay any bills. I was able to find a dress on a sale rack for $50 and have it altered.
     As the wedding approached some of my mother's friends held a shower for me in Los Angeles. This was so very lovely, and I am still grateful to them. I had been flying into LA twice a month to be with my Mom and to see my Dad through his surgeries. The shower was the last time I saw my Dad. I showed him my dress, which he did not like. I asked him if he wanted to give me away at the wedding. He told me that he would never give me away. Ever. That was our last conversation. We both cried when I left. I think we both knew what was to come.
     My Mom was exhausted and I was trying to keep up with my PhD coursework. My major faculty member suggested that perhaps I was not ready for graduate work if I could not focus on my research. He told me that he did not approve of women grad students getting married in the middle of a PhD.
    We were days away from the wedding, which was to be held on a Sunday in accordance with Jewish tradition, when we got the phone call. My Dad had passed-away early Thursday morning. Ric, Sonya (my youngest step-daughter) and I changed our flight plans and were in LA late that evening. We buried my father Friday, again in accordance with Jewish tradition which requires that internment take place quickly. However, Jews do not bury or marry on Shabbat; from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday.
     Afterwards the house was full of visitors, many of who had known nothing about the wedding. Flowers from the funeral (which is NOT a Jewish custom) and comfort food filled the house. My eldest step-daughter arrived by plane and we introduced our new blended family to the full-house of condolence visitors.  
    Of course we canceled the wedding flowers and the cake and the food, but weddings are not canceled. And so Ric and I were married in my Mother's backyard on Sunday morning, surrounded by those who had been invited, and those who were there for a condolence visit. Ric was not Jewish, and so we were married by a Judge. The flowers around me were funeral flowers. The food was funeral food. We did buy a small cake, but it was whatever the store had. No music, little celebration.
    Fast forward 25 years. Ric is now Jewish. And we want a Jewish wedding.