Story Jar - Peace, Love, Flowers and Ribbon: The Wedding

Peace, Love, Flowers and Ribbon
Story Jar, November 2007





I want these words to turn to butterflies, rainbow wings floating with spicy scents amid the rich voices of a thousand violins but of course it’s not possible. Still, that’s what it would take to tell you how wonderful Emilie’s and Josh’s wedding was. I can’t pack the sights, the tears, smiles, pride, energy, love or even the colors of that wonderful day into words but their first anniversary is nearly here so it’s time to do my best.

Emilie and Josh were married. Allow me pause to smile and sigh. On that day Josh was no more our son than the day before because he’d already been in our family
for 6 years.

You might think that because you’ve been to weddings you have a pretty good idea about this wedding but it wasn’t like any other wedding I’ve seen. They were joined by Rev Connie Dutcher in an intentional, purposeful, conscious Celtic Handfasting Ceremony. Let me explain.

They were married at Peace Abbey outside of Boston. That’s where the Dali Lama and Mother Theresa stayed at times and it’s the location of a national registry of conscientious objectors. The chapel holds the holy books, prayer beads, prayer wheels, vestments and flags for all major religions – so many that it barely has room for people so Em and Josh were married in the library.

People who know Josh and Emilie realize that the library was THE place for these two readers, writers, masters of words, thinkers of thoughts, holders of ideas and histories and connections. The library was totally fitting.

Across from the entry door is a finely-crafted fireplace and seating is arranged in a U facing it. As people entered, they took a candle. Karn was there to light it for them. All the candles were placed on a table near the entry and then everyone sat and talked spreading the energy of anticipation. When the guests were seated Rick, Jay and I came in and we each put flowers in what Emilie called our “family vase.” Josh’s family (Patti, Dave and Johanna) added flowers to the vase blending our families and then it was time for Josh and Emilie.


Somewhere in the process I began to worry a bit about the vase. Emilie asked me to make a large vase but clearly I didn’t get it large enough. It was full when Em added her bunch but Josh had more flowers. How would they fit? One of them was a sunflower with a stem about the size of a broom handle. Josh paused a bit considering the situation and then grabbed the vase and shoved those stems in. His smile of triumph was well earned.

They walked to the center of the room, in front of the fireplace, within a circle of rose petals, holding hands, smiling, looking young and happy and whole.

Handfasting is an ancient tradition common in Scotland until 1939. For hundreds of years, only wealthy Europeans could afford to marry in a church. Peasants would fasten their hands together in public (“tie the knot”) as a sign of their commitment. The practice is also associated with the custom of shaking hands to seal a contract. This ceremony was an elaboration on tradition.

Emilie and Josh stood in the circle of flower petals and Connie welcomed everyone and then Emilie began reading her vows to Josh. I started crying, not that I was the only one. Emilie spoke of being a fierce friend and partner. She talked of loving and of being purposely and intentionally together.

Rick had tissues in his pocket so I nudged him but he was absorbed in the moment and ignored me. It took some powerful sniffs and a couple of pokes to get a tissue out of him and by then Josh was reading his vows. He talked of admiring Emilie for her spark, creativity, courage, compassion and sense of justice. There was a lot of crying by then.

They held hands through all of this and then the tying began. Jay was first with the blue cord representing water. He made the cord of ribbon and lace and described how it represented emotional depth, peace and security. Then he tied their hands together. (Sorry, I was crying then. Here's Jay and Em dancing.)


Johanna was next with the white cord made of ribbons and marble discs and representing air. Johanna said that the air-cord represented strength of spirit, healing and protection. (I made this cord and the others after spending hours in Joanne Fabric choosing from thousands of ribbons, cords, braids and fabrics and then sewing them together with embroidery threads and beads.)

Kyle presented the orange chord of ribbons and rope and shinny gauze. Orange represents fire and Kyle talked of passion, liveliness, kindness and encouragement while he fastened the cord.


Kjersten was next with the green cord representing earth. Green stands for energy, success and a full and happy life.

Adding to that was Patrick with the gold cord for metals. It represents activity, intelligence, unity and learning.





Finally was their friend Josh with the brown cord. Brown is for wood and represents skills, talents and love for animals. Like the others, Josh’s tying ended with hugs.




Then Connie spoke to pronounce them partners for life. People stopped wiping their tears long enough to applaud and as the fireplace log burned low, Em and Josh removed their hands from the cords which fell nicely into a wreath – now hanging on the wall in their living room.

Story Jar - Would You Like a Couch?

Note: This issue of Story Jar has brought more comments than any other since the Story Jar resumed publication. People stopped by my booth at the Cuba Garlic Festival just to laugh and others called or stopped me on the street. It seems we all have moved boxes of books into and out of some interesting apartments.)


Would you like a couch?

When Em and Josh lived in Brookline (near Boston) they had to park on nasty streets, walk past creepy buildings and stress out over whether or not the car would be towed away. Living in Somerville seemed much friendlier so when they found an apartment they could afford they started packing. We all went to help move their mountain of books-n-stuff.
The 4th floor living room:

Rick drove the truck with our old couch and some other furniture and Jay drove my car with a set of 4 maple chairs and a table made with the legs from my “first” kitchen table nicely updated and repaired with a beautiful piece of curly maple on top. We drove through rain most of the time wondering about the integrity of the tarp wrapped around the couch and cursing the van that insisted its top speed was 45 mph.
We wanted to get the couch in the new apartment to free up the truck and to avoid another rain storm and we got there in time for rush hour, Boston’s version of vehicular warfare. While cars were gushing through every street, we had to make an emergency stop. The muffler fell off the van. We dragged it for a little while looking for a place to stop. Jay reached under the car and ripped the muffler free. Rick stopped with us so Jay popped the muffler in the truck with the couch rather than leave it on the road.
We fought through the traffic and found the new apartment but the previous tenants, two girls, hadn't moved anything out of it yet and – worse - it seemed they hadn’t cleaned it since moving in – if then.
There wasn’t a space large enough to leave the couch so we left it in the truck, met everyone for dinner and then Rick and I drove the truck to a motel hoping that we would still have the furniture in it in the morning. The sun rose on an undisturbed truck so fresh and rested with an oatmeal breakfast we started the serious work of moving.
We went to the old apartment and spent a few hours carrying stuff down from the fourth floor. We filled the front yard with Em’s and Josh’s possessions and occasionally sat on something to ponder the next trip up all those stairs for another box, generally of books.
At about noon, Rick and Em went to pick up the U-Haul while the rest of us ate lunch on the box-strewn lawn. After too little rest, Rick drove up with the big truck and we started filling it – every inch of it. We left the apartment white-glove-clean and locked it but kept the key just in case. Good thing.
We drove across Boston again and found that the new apartment was still full and still dirty. I asked the girls about their cleaning plan and they said they’d finished. Now listen, there was garbage overflowing and moldy food in the fridge and the stove was encased in gunk. The toilet was – polite words escape me - and I’ve never seen a worse tub.
Rick and I crossed paths several times during the day occasionally discussing when we could stop helping our children move. We swept a box of trash from the floor in one bedroom and did a quick mopping (our mop) before stacking all of Em's and Josh's stuff into the front bedroom and part of the kitchen while the girls moved their stuff out. One girl walked all the way down to the street with a single video tape in her hands. Together they repeatedly and slowly filled a two-wheeled shopping cart and walked the two blocks to their new apartment and then came back for more. Extraordinary behavior considering that they both had cars.
We managed to get everything out of the U-Haul and return it in the allotted time but we were too exhausted so we went back to the empty apartment and carted pillows and blankets back up to the fourth floor. All of us slept on the floor pretending that we were comfy and that nobody snored. In the morning we showered and used our shirts as towels and let our hair drip.
On this third day of moving, the girls were still getting stuff out. They were moving larger things and as they carried down and we carried up. Finally we took the couch out of the truck but it simply wouldn’t go up the narrow steps. It didn't fit. No way. No how. We had to wrap it back up to take it home –through a second thunder storm.
The kitchen after intense cleaning:

Em and Josh planned to use our old couch and toss out the older love seat but the love seat could be taken apart and carried up stairs so they were stuck with it. The double bed mattress was just a couple of inches too big for this narrow, twisty, turny stairway but it could bend a little. A hearty push on the box springs got it stuck in the hall and redesigned the contour of the wall before Rick, ever the engineer, peeled back the mattress cover, cut the corners with a hacksaw making it just slightly smaller and got the thing up the stairs.
He found thumbtacks on various walls and used them to tack the fabric back on the corners. Good as new.
Much of the time that others were trying to move the mattress, Jay worked to get the bathroom door to close (apparently it never had before) and the rest of us took turns scrubbing this and that. After the truck was emptied, 7 people spent 8 solid hours cleaning just to feel comfortable about standing in the rooms.
As I write this, it is Sunday night after a hellishly long day. Though it will take along while before this apartment “feels” clean, I know it will soon be cute and cozy. We’ve decided to stay the night because we’re tired and there’s still a huge list of chores including: get a new TV (long story in itself), find a couple of used bikes and get some joint compound to patch the holes in the stairwell.
Pushing that thought aside I was just about ready to use the clean tub in preparation for sleep on a mattress but someone is rasping away with the hacksaw again and I can’t decide whether or not to ignore it.