The second day of a Polish multi-day wedding celebration is much more relaxed than the first. Gone are the formalities of the first day: the greeting line, the formal wear, and the attendant ceremonies. And it starts late enough that we can get in a photo session.
But one thing that doesn’t change is the length — long enough to pop away for a little while to Lipnica’s annual folk festival to see some regional dancing.
“That’s how Mama used to perform,” I explain to L, but with the proliferation of odpust-type deals in cheap plastic goods, she’s not exactly watching with rapt attention.
In some ways, though, I planned this quick visit to the festival as much for myself as for the Girl. It’s the best opportunity to meet folks I haven’t seen in ages, people I might not otherwise get to see. Like my buddy S, who owned a shop down the street that I frequented as much for a soda and chat as for any particular shopping.
When I return to the wedding party, I see again just how small a world it is: there sits a former student.
“Do you remember me?” he asks. The face is familiar, but I can’t remember the name. “Don’t you remember G and D, always giving you problems, always being a little crazy?” Now it all comes back to me. I sit with him and his wife, also a former student (ironically named K like my own sweet wife), and we talk about old times, new times, changes in the meantime.
In the end, we and a few other family members — K’s uncle and aunt — find we’ve outlasted just about everyone,
including the bride and groom.
All good things, though, come to an end,
even all-night parties.
