Dancing at Rachel's Wedding

I got up at 4:00 am on Saturday.
The kitten squinted up at me
after I turned on the light
like I had lost my everloving mind.

But...I had a plane to catch.
Flew out at 6:00,
arrived in West Palm Beach before 11:00.

Went almost directly to the rehearsal lunch.
As I walked in, a lovely little woman
walked up to me and said,
"I know you! It is so good to see you again!"

I thought nothing of it,
as I spend my days visiting the shifting realities
of women her age who live in the nursing homes
I frequent.

But her daughter stood behind waving her arms
and shaking her head and mouthing,
"She doesn't know you!"

There was an explanation of brain damage
suffered in recent years,
but none of that mattered.
I was glad to see her again, too.
It turned out she was the grandmother of the groom,
and her arm waving daughter, the proud mother.

During the wedding, as I stood beneath the chuppa
with the bride and groom,
I could hear the grandmother's voice
floating over the wedding ceremony,
"Let me go! I want to go DOWN THERE!"

She was trying to get to the chuppa,
to the wedding canopy,
where the action was,
while her loving family gently held her arms
and shushed her.

Later, after the ceremony,
they took her picture under the chuppa,
and she smiled that lovely smile,
delighted.

Later, with the same delight,
she danced at the wedding reception.
She danced with her husband,
she danced with her daughters,
she danced with her granddaughters,
she invited her grandson, the groom, to dance.

When seated at the table,
she danced with her arms and shoulders,
celebrating the marriage,
the music, the day.

At one point, she celebrated her 6 grandchildren.
"No...five," corrected her family. "Who is the 6th?"

"Rachel," she stated firmly,
naming the beautiful bride.

Vera may have had some damage to her brain,
but she knows where the action is,
what the mood should be,
who belongs to her family.

Of all my deep gratitude this weekend,
I am perhaps most grateful for Vera.