My sister got married on Sunday, and I have written down some thoughts I have, the day after. I wondered if I could post them to beyondbt, as I could use some chizuk from others who have experienced similar things.
7th November 2011
Last night they finally got married. And it’s a major anticlimax for me. My sister met her boyfriend 5 years ago, when I met my husband. In that time, I have got married and had two children and she has continued dating him. They got engaged on New Years Day this year and moved in together a couple of months after and yesterday they stood under the chuppah and are now husband and wife.
I had been so thrilled for my big sister. She is 3 years older than me (31) and it was about time too. Now her relationship which has been so worrying to all the family is a kosher one and all is done and dusted.
They tried so hard to include us, the caterer was kosher, we had a hotel room paid for in the swanky five star hotel for us all, and a babysitter paid for the whole day so that we would be able to enjoy the wedding and that our children would be able to participate when they could and be looked after when they were too tired or noisy. I had an outfit made to measure which was as tznius as could be, as well as really gorgeous. But the whole event just underlined to me just how not frum they are, and how different our lives are.
The dancing was the hardest. We are a musical family and it was just so hard to not be able to join in the dancing. It wasn’t that I wanted to be dancing to “Living on A Prayer”, but I wanted that I would be able to be fully taking part in my sister’s wedding. My sister, who I love so much, who I am so so happy that she is finally in a committed relationship, that she is a wife, I wanted to be able to celebrate with her by dancing around the room, like I do at my friends’ weddings and even strangers!
But I had to stand on the other side of the hall, trying to bite back the tears. Of course, it’s perfectly acceptable to be emotional at your sister’s wedding, so I didn’t have to explain them. But it was so so hard to feel part of the celebration.
They kindly hadn’t filled me in on any of the details of the night as they knew I wouldn’t be able to attend and that I’d prefer not to know things which will upset me. But one thing I did know was that she, her friends, my mum and her mother in law had all learnt a dance routine which they performed to the rest of the guests. I wanted to see it, but then it was so painful to not be one of them doing it. I should have been able to perform a shtick with my sister, but instead I couldn’t, because they are just not frum. It really really hurt and I nearly ran out of the hall to not collapse into tears. We really are a very musical family and singing and dancing are such a way that we express ourselves. Not being part of the dancing was far more difficult than I had imagined.
Yes, she looked beautiful, yes the shul was magnificent, and the hall for wedding looked spectacular with the attention to detail incredible. The wedding favours, flowers made out of ribbon with sugared almonds enclosed looked enchanting. The real flower arrangements classy and refined. But that’s it. It was all the superficial details of beauty without the depth of a frum wedding. The best man’s speech was cringeworthy, all the silly things the groom had done growing up. I couldn’t bear it. When Michael gave his speech, I had the briefest of mentions, something along the lines of, “and thank you Jacqueline, my beautiful new sister in law”, which as well as being in contrast to the great shpiel about her other three bridemaids who are friends was bizarre for me to have anyone other than my father or husband tell me that I look beautiful. It was such a formulaic thing to say, rather than being applicable to me. No mention was made of my son (who was a page boy) or daughter (little bridesmaid). I’m sure that was just an oversight, but when I was already feeling sidelined, it didn’t help.
It all just made me feel like any old guest at the wedding rather than the sister of the bride.
The bedeken was beautiful though, and I mean that honestly. It was just the immediate family and I was called in for that, although they asked that my children weren’t there (which made sense, they’d never have stayed still or quiet and it was a tiny room). Both fathers blessed their children and his Dad even spoke to him about the meaning of the words, who Efraim and Menashe were and how that is applicable to him. The Rabbi at the chuppah spoke really nicely about the unity of the two families, and our families are families which really do work on keeping in touch with distant relatives. The chazzan happened to be an old neighbour of ours who sang beautifully. It was really special.
But then the party was just so so not.
When we’re in our frum bubble, it is so easy to forget what it is like to not be frum, and here it all was in all it’s glory.
I suppose that because they are so respectful of us when on our turf, I don’t realise what they do when they are in their own environs.
I had one cousin telling me all about the octopus and other interesting foods he’d eaten on a recent holiday to the far east, and how that’s really his sort of thing because he really likes prawns etc. He wasn’t trying to make a point, he was just sharing details of what he’d been up to.
Then there are my non Jewish cousins flitting about from various intermarried parts of the family.
And my little 4 year old chareidi son, in his kuppel and tzitzis, totally overtired, and during the meal, dancing to the background music. Thank G-d he isn’t any older yet, because it would have been far more problematic. He won’t remember what the lady singing looked like (I won’t go into it), or what the music was. He is just a musical boy and he wanted to dance.
At the end of the wedding, everyone kept coming over and telling me how lovely, beautiful and delightful my children were, which was nice, but I do wonder what he will tell the Rebbe tomorrow in school about what happened at Auntie Elizabeth’s wedding.
I just wish that they were all frum and that we could be fully part of each other’s lives. I want to say, I try my hardest, but maybe I don’t. I do try hard to maintain the contact with the non frum parts of my family, to remain parts of each other’s lives, but this event just made me realise how very different our lives are, and how it isn’t really possible to be fully part of each other’s lives even if we wanted to.