By Margaret S. Hamilton
My
daughter Lizzie and her husband Greg celebrated their Cape Cod beach wedding on
August tenth. I took notes for future stories: the beachside rehearsal dinner
and bonfire, the bridesmaids’ luncheon in nearby Woods Hole, watching the tent
on the beach go up, the high winds and pounding waves during the wedding, the
magical moment when the wind and surf died. As the sun set, guests and band
members emptied the reception tent to take photos on the beach. A Saturday
morning open water race offered potential as a crime scene, populated by a
plethora of fictional evil relatives.
My
daughter had planned every minute of the wedding weekend. I handed out
band-aids and aloe from my well-stocked travel kit and followed my assigned
schedule. We grabbed family beach time: my husband immersed in a historical
tome while the girls shared a copy of Semple’s Where’d You Go, Bernadette
and the boys tossed a football. We body-surfed, a skill my father had taught me
and I, in turn, had taught my children.
The
four-day weekend was filled with memories of my childhood summer vacations at
my grandparents’ cottage at the other end of the Cape, followed by my
children’s visits to the same beach. My husband and I also had an August Cape
Cod wedding, but not on the beach.
I hadn’t
been to the Cape since 2006, after my parents died. As I strode down Main
Street in Falmouth one evening, wearing khaki shorts and a baggy cotton
sweater, I noticed passersby nodding and saying hello. Yes, we could have
attended college together. Or perhaps they knew my parents, or remembered me
from summers working in a Chatham restaurant kitchen. With four generations of Cape
Cod roots, I was home.
Charming recap of your daughter's wedding and memories of your times at Cape Cod. It sounds like you left part of your heart at Cape Cod.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a great wedding. I love Cape Cod (except for the mosquitos)
ReplyDeleteI have very mixed feelings about returning to where I grew up, on Long Island, but the smell of the beach, the sound of the surf, and the wind off the water stir up only pleasant memories.
Grace, I had never visited Falmouth, but quickly fell into the same "Cape mode" as I always had during summer visits.
ReplyDeleteKathleen, I've driven by the houses I lived in as a child. Everything's changed, and it no longer felt like home. But the Cape Cod beach was the same.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful celebration you had! Your daughter looked gorgeous, as did you - loved seeing your wedding pic! Thank goodness the beach and ocean are eternal - you can always go "home" to the beach, even if the people and everything else have changed. Is a Cape Cod writing retreat in your future?
ReplyDeleteMargaret, beautiful! Your wedding and your daughter's. I didn't know you had Cape Cod roots. Spent several childhood vacations there. I miss it. Congrats to you! Looking forward to future stories.
ReplyDeleteShari, the Cape is a 16 hour drive from Cincinnati. Tempting, but probably not realistic.
ReplyDeleteEllen, yes, four generations on the same beach in South Chatham, my parents living year round in Chatham until 2005. A story's brewing!
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful! Sounds and looks like my kind of wedding. I'm so happy for your family. Of course your backstory of murderous thoughts are a nice contrast!
ReplyDeleteElaine, despite the high winds, pounding surf, and blowing sand, it was a memorable event.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely setting, and a happy looking family, Margaret.
ReplyDeleteBest wishes to your daughter and new son-in-law for a long, happy, and healthy life together.
Karen, thanks for your good wishes.
ReplyDelete