Tradition. It's another word for memory. We put out our grandmother's china, our mother's silver, and spread the crocheted lace tablecloth to welcome the wedding party and new bride...and to fondly set a place at table in our mind for those present only in memory. In this way we knit together the gracious past, the joyful present, the future full of hope.
Yes, mawwaige indeed brings us together today, but it's not just for the wedding. An entire churchful will probably include a multitude of degrees of association. More photos capturing the event for the perusal of goodness knows who in the future.
Tarkio's Community Building is Cinderella yet again, wearing an brand new crop of tattooed holes in its ceiling. The little kids cannot contain their exuberance; abetted by sugar, they become dervishes of tulle, oblivious to the disc jockey, they whirl to their own personal music of the night.
And speaking of memory...and old times?
We left home when we were barely past eleven-teen
Been back and forth and all around through hell and rain
I've loved you half of your life and I'll keep on loving you