Image by montpelier via FlickrI have a love/hate relationship with weddings. On one side, of course I rejoice with the ones getting married, on the other had, I envy them. I think this comes because, although I was married twice, I never had a wedding. I was never a bride. Civil marriage, you see. At 19, when I got married the first time, my mother says never ever in her life is she going to pay for my wedding. Too expensive, too much troble, not worth the headache. My ex-husband's parents said approximately the same. They even didn't come to the ceremony. Neither did my mother. Or anybody from my family.
The second time I didn't give it so much thought. We and Tibi got married in a hurry, not because I was pregnant or something...I was living in Romania at that time and he was living in Israel. So he came to Romania, proposed and we got married something like two weeks afterwards. Then he returned to Israel and I followed him afterward. So, no wedding bells for me. Din't have time to think much, although I remember saying something to Tibi about a wedding dress. I know he eyed me suspiciously and that was it. In the end I had a very nice two piece suit, the color of butter.
Of course I regret it now. I think every girl dreams about her wedding. I remember that in my dream I always had a simple wedding, a white cotton dress and a daisy chain on my head. I always linked daises with my wedding, I don't know why.
So, weddings make me sad. But only for a while. Then I think about the blessings my (second) marriage bought me; and also about my son, the blessing from my first marriage and I feel fine.