Let's recap my last 24 hours:Around six last evening, the Hubs and I headed over to the "wedding" to which we were invited. It was not so much a wedding, as a family dinner in a nice restaurant, as the couple had been married in a civil ceremony in the afternoon (which the Hubs attended.) If I haven't said this already, this is a Polish-American young fellow in the Hubs' office, and his bride, whom he had met and spent much time with previously on many occasions, but who only just recently actually immigrated from Poland to be married.
There were about 20 people there, seated at a horseshoe-shaped table in a Polish-American restaurant. Emphasis on the Polish. The Hubs and I were the only ones there who did not speak Polish, unless you want to count the 7-week old baby, and of course, she doesn't speak anything.
The groom was nice enough to make his welcome speech in English and Polish, presumably for us, but nearly everything else was in Polish, including when the waiter asked what we wanted. In answer to our puzzled looks, he said something like "Oh, you're the ones who speak English," and he switched over. Yes, there was a variety of food I couldn't identify, and traditional songs and toasts I didn't get. But you know what? It was lovely. First, it was amazing to be the only non-family people invited, except for the groom's two best childhood friends (one of whom gave the Polish toast.) It was a very happy party, at one point everyone dancing, including the grandpa holding the baby. (Not us, of course. We didn't dance at our own wedding.) People were just incredibly friendly, even though they didn't know us from a hole in the wall and they apologized for their spotty English, but came over for conversation just the same. I got to gaze longingly at this perfect baby close-up when her grandma came and sat down with me. All in all, a delightful evening, despite my horrendous sinus headache and the torrential rain that started seconds after we got in the car to come home.
Today.
We left home at 9:30 and began our trek into deepest, darkest Brooklyn. This is not really far as the crow flies, but it was very much like venturing into another world. The Hubs is a super navigator and a very good city driver. Even so, this took us over the George Washington Bridge, down the Henry Hudson Parkway (which runs along the Hudson River on the west side of Manhattan) and then onto Canal Street. Canal Street, as misspinkkate knows, is the street-shopping bargain-buying paradise of New York City. It was plenty crowded, but nothing like it would be later on our way home. Canal Street runs into Chinatown and over the Manhattan Bridge into Brooklyn, where we made our way into a lovely, upscale brownstone-studded neighborhood called Park Slope. Peter's funeral was in a church here.
We made it in good time, and as we approached the church, we saw one of the couples from our old high school/college years circle of friends. I don't think we've seen any of these people for at least 18 years, and although they have maintained some contact with each other, the Hubs let his end slip. This was so bittersweet. It was incredibly good to see them, but not for this. Peter should have been there with us, if you know what I mean. A few minutes later, the other couple that was coming turned up, and we stood and talked outside until it was time to go in. (On our way in, I had to admit that I needed to find a ladies' room pronto, and the other two women chimed in with "Oh, me too!" All of an age, you know.)
The service was in a lovely old New York church, plenty of stained-glass windows and charm. It appeared to be -- or to have been once -- a Catholic church, but this was not a Catholic service. If it was a specific demonination, I don't know what it was. It appeared to be a Chinese or Japanese Christian service. Peter was Chinese, but his estranged wife, who, it seems, orchestrated the event, is Japanese, actually from-Japan-a-long-time-ago Japanese. (Peter, like the many other Chinese-American kids who grew up here in town back in the sixties, was born here.) It was, for lack of a better description, an intensely Christian service, with a great deal of emphasis on eternal life through Christ and so forth. I'm just saying. The majority of funerals I've been to in my life have either been Jewish or non-demoninational, so I guess I just noticed the difference.
One of the other guys in our group told us that Peter had had an unhappy life. He deserved better; he was a very nice guy. But I think what he means is that Peter had an unhappy marriage. He was apparently very succesful in his career -- he was a high-power attorney in Manhattan -- and was devoted to his daughter, now nearly 20, who went with him after he and his wife separated. I think he had a great deal of unhappiness, but hopefully, the scale was tipped in his favor in total.
After the service, we did not go to the burial, which was actually a cremation -- I don't know what it was they were actually inviting people to attend -- but the six of us, along with another couple in which the wife, a lawyer-colleague of Peter's, had also gone to high school with us, went out for lunch. Is it awful to say what a good time we had? We did. We caught up, we reminisced, we teased each other and laughed as if we had all seen each other yesterday. We did not forget our absent friend. He was such a good guy. He brought us together today, didn't he? Emotions are very, very mixed.
We exchanged addresses and email addresses, promised to go to a barbecue at someone's home in August, and parted. The Canal Street traffic was just dreadful on the way back; I had no idea that New York City still used human traffic cops at busy corners, and thank goodness they do, because I think otherwise there would have been dire consequences. Every block had at least one idiot hawking bubble guns to passing cars, and the SUV in front of us -- I'm embarrased to say they had Jersey plates -- stopped at bought at THREE of them. Seriously folks, is this your first trip to the Big City? Do you want three damn bubble guns? BUY THEM ALL FROM THE FIRST GUY AND LET'S KEEP MOVING HERE!
I am seriously impressed with the Hubs for his Lewis-and-Clark skills here. We got home around four.
The weather front passed through after last night's storm, and my sinus headache is magically gone today. Now that everything else has settled down, if only my stomach will too, I'll be a happy camper.
It's been a long week.
