I managed to, all these months, avoid all the hype of the runup to the royal wedding, but this morning woke up early, six-thirtyish, remembered that it was the big day, got up, turned on the little TV in the aerie, and watched. The vows had already been exchanged... but later in the afternoon it was rebroadcast on PBS, and I saw the whole thing - guests arriving, Will and his brother in the Bentley being driven down the Mall, Kate and a glimpse of her beautiful lace bodiced gown as she sat with her father in a separate car on the way to Westminster Abbey - to where I had picked it up at dawn.
Beautiful wedding, I enjoyed watching it, it was mesmerizing. (My one question: where was Fergie? Was she there? If she was, somehow I missed her.)
I didn't have a white wedding myself, the simplest affair ever, vows exchanged in the Manhattan wedding office, then a simple reception, self-catered, in our apartment. We had no money, and no one on either side with deep pockets. It was nice, at the time, I suppose I didn't mind, I was so in love, the wedding seemed almost a formality. Now I look back with some regrets though, a sense - I'm sorry I can't help it, I know I should be grateful for what I have (see I'm beating myself up with guilt) - but sometimes I feel as though things, important things, just utterly passed me by.
I've never so much as tried on a wedding gown. I was attracted to brides' magazines as a young girl, which my mother disparaged, and I heeded her disparagement. It amazes me the extent to which I tried to heed my mother, and mostly I feel the opposite of whatever she was trying to impart, have had to battle her mentally all my life. Not out of orneriness, I have tended to come to feel the precise opposite of whatever she was trying to impart to me. Which it isn't clear to me what it was. She didn't prepare me, or protect me. The nihilistic family I grew up in was not a Family Firm, edifices to be carefully constructed, preserved, formalities observed - not merely observed - but cherished & observed. I dislike false edifices, false fronts, but at the same time I dislike this feeling of being - somehow not part of something, something important, not connected enough.
It's not helping that at the moment I don't have something concrete to look forward to, or even something imaginary, such as the week in Brooklyn I spent two months looking forward to. And now it's behind me, and a tiny bubble of illusion got burst, but the trouble is, I don't have anything to replace it with at the moment.
D seems to be doing much better psychically, getting a lot of work, he seems in a much better, steadier mood these days. The week apart maybe did him some good, also the extra work "in the pipeline" as he put it - anxiety had been getting to him too. Maybe I have turned into a horrible narcissistic monster. I used to love my husband and now I don't, and so what happens then, next? Do I even wish I could get it back? Not really, I feel as though things went too far, for too long - on some level I might wish it - we did, while we got along, have a very comfortable life, I wasn't so full of unrequited, pentup, frustrated, intractable, useless yearning. I can't say that I've ever been defined by "peace of mind" - but I did delight in his company, exclusively, for a very long time. Then again, though - I had over the years of our marriage, put on a tremendous amount of weight, let myself go truly - and so it was those aspects of myself, the ones that might "wander" - that I had - well, "put to bed" doesn't seem quite the right phrase. I guess I always had a very passionate nature or side to me, and in order to be faithful and devoted, I desexualized myself. Wow, all so unconscious - and D never seemed to mind, if anything, he seemed (especially in the early times in our marriage) to be fattening me up, he did a lot of cooking - when we got together, my diet utterly changed, suddenly it was square meals, especially dinners, daily - too many calories.
How I got my groove back. Exercising, working out, taking long walks every day. I've let my hair grow. I've dropped several sizes but am still size 16. Not size 14. My friends in Brooklyn (the wife) left for me a couple of dressy silk ensembles, which as the royal wedding played on my little TV, I finally had a chance to try on. I'm 1X now, not 2X. But there was an ivory silk shell, size 14, and it was too snug, though I can get away with it with the 1X lovely silk jacket over it.
I look really nice I think, not stunning like some of the lookers at the royal wedding (my God, Diana's brother's fiance - breathtaking) but quite nice.
Oh anyway, sorry, most self-involved blogpost ever, I do realize it. And yet, sometimes -
You came as a surprise to me when you did, and I don't know, I feel different about the situation now, post-Brooklyn (that is, the week just past that I spent alone), I mean not that different, but more - you're from a family that believes in, partakes in, Royal Weddings, I've attended them, have a recollection of encountering you at yours (possibly the first time I ever met you though I'm not certain) and feeling a pang - you were gorgeous - a Prince - and it was your wife whom I knew and loved and I was there for her and thrilled for her - and there you were. It was just an instant thing, I could bury it right away. And there was an image today on TV of Prince William with his RAF squad in a helicopter, looking just so handsome and competent - he reminded me of you, that flash image I had of you -
I'm okay, I don't mean to make more of it than I feel. I'm actually just sitting here typing, my incredibly shrinking cat (she is balding, poor tortoiseshell Gwynnie, and she was mostly about hair - so losing it she is half her size) - and D is up north on some job, but was in Hudson in the morning and stopped by the supermarket on the way home for lunch, scored some yellow-stickered lamb steaks which I see - since he bought a bag of coals - he plans to grill. So I made a bowl of beautiful curried couscous salad to go with that, hot-curry powder from the little spice shop, couscous in affordable tubs from wonderful Sahadi's.
After lunch today, I had a sliver of the mazurek - Polish Easter cake - I had made, marzipan layers of almond & apricot - like a bite of wedding cake - divine.
Kisses, touching your hand - XOXO - Belle