I attended my assistant’s wedding yesterday, to her young man. Both of them looked so young, like little kids, but it was very sweet to be invited to the wedding. The love shining from their eyes was amazing; both of them were trying rather valiantly to hold back their tears whilst reciting their vows.
I am not comfortable in organised religious settings – namely churches. My unease is due to my childhood while growing up. Not that I was diddled by priests and/or nuns, but I was a rather quiet & observant child. And I noted from a very early age that my parents’ contemporaries and their children tended to be “good catholics” whilst in church, but once outside were quite vicious with their gossip, antisemitism, intolerance of anything non-catholic and in every respect not respectful towards one another. I grew up with this. I grew up with my uber-catholic mother making me say the rosary on a daily basis on my knees. As an I adult I understand she meant well; she truly believed back then, and even to this day, that daily prayer is the only way towards safeguarding our souls from eternal torment.
I remember a couple years ago musing about the idea of having a small Romuva North America gathering. I was rather rudely talked down to for my “pagan ways” for even contemplating using the camp grounds in Wasaga Beach owned by the local Franciscan Fathers — Kretinga. I wouldn’t be interested in it anyways because it is a catholic campground and I would prefer using something that isn’t so strongly embued with one religion’s energies. I would much rather use a secular campground. One would think that the Golden Rule as espoused by Jesus would be in the heart of all Christians – Love Thy Neighbour as Thy Self – and yet it isn’t. Anything remotely different is shot down as being unacceptable. Much of the world’s strife is down to religion, which is very saddening — considering that each of the religions have a common goal, to become one with the godhead (be it the Judeo-Christian God, Nirvana, etc), and yet they are so busy trying to kill each other that they forget the tenents of their own faiths.
So this brings me back to the church service yesterday. It was held at some Filipino Christian Fundamentalist Church. I went, even though I was highly uncomfortable, because I wanted to support my assistant. The day was all about her and her new husband, and if it makes her happy to have the service at that church so be it. The Pastor who led the service was also the Groom’s father. Why he brought up the issue of Gay Marriage in the middle of his own son’s wedding I don’t know. It was at that point that I tuned out, as I couldn’t stand listening to such vitriol coming from a supposed Man of God. If, as an individual, you do not support Gay Marriage that is your prerogative — then it’s a simple case of don’t get married to an individual of the same gender. Weddings are supposed to be a celebration of the new path that a couple is about to embark upon, not an opportunity rail at the Federal Government about legalising Gay Marriage, or admonishing the Federal Government for not re-opening the abortion issue.
After the church service I went off to a local shopping mall to wait to be picked up for the reception. The reception was held at a Chinese Restaurant in a city to which there was no available public transit. I waited at this mall for 3.5hrs and I was bored to tears, and rather antsy at the same time. I bought a couple of books, ate a lunch, and generally wandered about. At one point I admonished a woman for standing by my elbow while I was trying to punch in my PIN for my debit card. My exact words were “please do not stand so close to someone when they are trying to type in a PIN, it violates my privacy and the security of my transaction”. The woman was shocked to say the least, and murmured a small sorry. Maybe it was because I was dressed so nicely, maybe it was because I spoke in a clear and firm manner.. I don’t know, it was just odd. After the bookstore I went to the food court to get a sandwich for lunch. While standing in line I was trying to get to the cashier to place my order. Some woman was standing to the side waiting for her order, while her kids were taking up space at the counter — with no one having the ability to approach to place their orders. I got rather annoyed, and in a school marm-ish sort of way I asked the children to not block the counter and to please stand by their mother.
The mall, Scarborough Town Centre, was just odd. I don’t know what it was, but I was able to get my point across to individuals who were either blocking my way or violating my personal space. Not sure if I give off vibes that unnerves people and causes them to give way to my requests, or they are just shocked that someone is asking them to respect privacy and personal space.
Anywho, I was duly picked up at 6:00pm and whisked off to the reception. I was seated at the “white table” — at which was my manager, her husband, and an italian family. My manager is an excellent accountant, one of the best I’ve ever worked with — she’s quite sharp, is up on the latest developments in IFRS, GAAS, Canadian Tax Law and whatnot. What she isn’t is an excellent people manager. She can be very hard to read most times, as her facial expression at work never changes — one can never tell if she’s annoyed, angry, content, pleased or happy. But take her out of the office context and she’s a rather pleasant person. She seems to have this misconception that I am a drinker and party animal, cos I’m fairly social. It shocked her yesterday when I told her that I don’t drink. But it was rather pleasant, sitting there chit chatting with her and her husband. The others at the table, for the most part they were okay, but one lady went on and on about her dry cracked nipples (cos she’s breastfeeding). I know she was at a table with family and with family there are conversations one can have which are not necessarily appropriate when amongst strangers. There were 3 strangers at the table, we really didn’t need to hear this. And as it was a formal wedding reception it would have been a sign of respect and recognition to the day to actually pour one’s Nestea into a glass, instead of chugging it from a can.
My assistant was quite lovely dancing her “father-daughter” dance. She was over the moon that her 102yr old grandmother flew in from British Columbia, though she was quite worried as she really didn’t want her gran to be on a plane for 4 hours. The woman is quite spry. She has a walker, but other than that she moves around easily, has all her faculties, and still retains a formidable intelligence. During dinner the Bride and Groom went from table to table to have their pictures taken with each group of guests. It was quite lovely doing that, a chance to share in their joy up close.
My only issue, other than the church service, was the music at the reception. It was highly questionable, and I suspect the selection was made by a karaoke mad filipino.
I left the reception around 8:30pm as Mr Squirrel said he would pick me up. As I mentioned before, there was no available public transport for me to take back to the civilisation of downtown Toronto. I was dependent on either someone picking me up or taking at taxi to Finch Subway Station .. which would have been quite costly.
So, that was my Saturday.