The wedding dress

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He said he wanted to marry on a full moon because they had met on a full moon but later on it turned out he was a lunatic and he needed his moon to feel himself real and true to himself only. 

But all that  would happen later on, much later on and meanwhile the guests had began to arrive at the local  municipality, his sisters, his mother and father, his little niece, his friend number one, his friend number two , and then he had played guitar and his friends played clarinet and flute, and they had chosen a song she did not like but it was a surprise so she had pretended she had liked the song. 

Her mother was the only family member to have arrived because it was Passover and all  the other family members had been gathering around the Passover table recalling the coming out of Egypt, from darkness to light, while she was being led from light to darkness, and was becoming a wife to a stranger who never did remember what it was like to be a stranger in the land of Egypt not because he did not know but because he did not care to know and so she had gotten married breaking all the rules, all the traditions the way the Greeks she had seen  break  porceline dishes one Easter on the Greek island where her father had spent his last year on earth, not with her or his wife but with the Greeks and their goats and their broken dishes and their abilities to let go of things the way he later had letten  go of life. 

Her mother had called her one day not too long before the wedding and had told her about a wedding dress she had seen displayed , it was reduced, she had said, and so she got that dress, long with lace , and white shoes to match, and she had folded the dress into a suitcase along with a blue coat her mother had bought her, a winter coat to match the seasons of the cold country she would live in from now on. 

The wedding was long and exhausting because he wanted to invite the children he had taught and he did not bother to ask her permission nor was he willing to accept that she had felt tired, she was not allowed to feel, she was supposed to follow and obey. 

Her mother dressed in an elegant suit and smiled in the photos but though she had played along, there was something dark and deeply disturbing gathering its strength like a storm inside of her, it was a rebellion against the forgetting of the traditions, and later on when her mother had proudly introduced her to an  old Hungarian jewish woman on the street, she told her, how their race was cursed and it was better to erase it, and the sooner the better, because look what had happened to her family? was it worth all that suffering ?

She thought she had believed in universalism, that everyone was the same, a sort of communist manifesto the way all the brides wore white , no matter where they came from, well, most of them anyway..

He got angry the night before the wedding but used only words, and later on when he got angry he also did deeds, he had walked away taking with him their child, and later on he would get away with most everything he had wanted to, he left behind him a trail of crumbs that used to be people, their children, and her and people she thought were friends, he did not care what he killed and how, and she , just thought it was a simple ritual, a white dress and nothing bad could come out of a celebration ,even between two strangers who had been united in madness , in some wish to be like everybody else, though time proved, it was impossbile to become what you never were and never will be. 

She had wished to have met the old Hungarian woman again and to tell her how wrong she had been, that you can not succumb to hate and racism by erasing your identity but by then the old Hungarian woman must have died and it did not really matter what she had thought about anything. 

The night was dark and the trees were covered with frost, there was no snow in the city, and the wedding dress had been lost while moving from one apartment to another , and if found, who would wear it and why?

 

 

About seagullsea

a seagull flying over the great ocean of life observing.
This entry was posted in adaptation, life choices, life lessons, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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