Welcome back! The Passage reopens with song and celebration.
Our son Etienne's and his true love Tash's wedding took place over last weekend, a sparkling end to the glorious Montréal summer.
Listening to their vows and and the reminiscences of family and friends at the reception, I recalled the small boy who would nestle against me, only yesterday it seems, in his spaceship-printed pjs, while we read stories and poems. From "Which witch has the itch?" to "I do" seemed to take but moments. It is dailiness—the routines of bath time and school days and supper at 6:00—that comprises a family's indelible memories, two decades built over the dining table and the playground.
Many of his and his twin's friends since primary school were there, in the slightly disconcerting guise of assured adults; the stylish siblings above no longer fight over Ninja Turtles.
The lines of this song came to me, carried by the ethereal voice of Sandy Denny. Suddenly, a boy becomes a husband, his friends are the adults who design your software or teach your grandchildren. And all of this on Labour Day weekend, when the summer's evanescence was most evident.
"Who knows where the time goes?"
We await another joyful milestone, the birth of their son in late January, so soon I hope to read before bedtime, once again, with another snuggly small boy in his pajamas.
The Passage traditionally opens with a pearl post, and pearls came to the wedding! The mother of the bride in a rope that includes her mother's pearls:
The mother of the groom en route to city hall, in Kojima Company baroque freshwaters:
I am wrapped in the special happiness of seeing our child so in love, and being loved in return.