Home, listening to Bach

We arrived home late yesterday afternoon from the Ottawa wedding and attendant celebrations. It was wonderful to gather our family together – Brendan and Cristen coming from Edmonton, Angelica from Victoria – to help Forrest and Manon get married on a bright Saturday, to feast with them and their friends and Manon’s family on Moroccan food (from Chez Fatima in Hull: extraordinary, every bite), to dance the night away, and then some. A sweet memory: watching Manon and her father begin the first dance, “The Tennessee Waltz”, and then to have my son reach for me to join him, and them, on the little dance floor. Such a lovely song, though I need to give some thought to how I would alter the lyrics, which don’t apply in this instance:

I remember the night,
And the Tennessee Waltz
Now I know just how much I have lost
Yes, I lost my little darlin’
The night they were playing
The beautiful Tennessee Waltz.

No loss in this marriage but the gift of a glorious daughter-in-law, a wide-reaching extended family to enrich our own, and again that feeling that life doesn’t pass but accumulates, person by person, moment by moment.

And now I’m home, listening to Casals play the cello suites, perfectly suited to this autumn morning, the big-leaf maples glowing golden in the woods beyond the house, a few roses still, last night’s big moon still in the sky.

A few images of the wedding: