Friday, November 13, 2009
People often ask me these days how the wedding plans are coming. I smile and give them brief updates. I remember about a month ago enjoying the questions and the details. Now I am just tired. I explained this to my fiancé yesterday and he laughed.
I think both of us are more excited for Christmas than for the wedding.
Walking home with groceries yesterday, it struck me that our wedding day will fall within the period of O Antihpons. This made me much happier than any amount of giggling about lace or hors d'oeuvres has in the past weeks.
The difference is that I have to be at my wedding for it to proceed, and I have to smile, be graceful, look nice, and mingle like a proper lady. It will be fun but exhausting.
At midnight Mass on Christmas, nobody will care whether I am there or not. I could sneak in through a back door and lose myself entirely in the other-worldliness of the dead-of-night Nativity of Our Lord, His Advent in the flesh, complete with chant and incense and ad orientem, all reminders that it's not about me. The healing, life-restorative orderliness of it alone is a small proof to me of the perfection of Catholicism.