Back when I was in architecture school, the longest we ever got to work on a project was six or seven weeks. That was about enough time to start to understand the site, begin to work on accommodating user needs, and explore three or four alternative solutions before we had to take one of them to the point of presentation drawings and models. It was never expected that we would get anywhere near to selecting materials, understanding the structural system, or do any of the detailing that would make the water and bugs stay out and the conditioned air stay in. Those are the problems that get worked out in the months subsequent to the initial schematic design (usually by a team of people other than the person who DID the schematic design).
There's the vision, and then there's the flashing details...
I thought about this yesterday when we were driving into Middletown Springs, past the turn-off for Many Springs Road (which leads to Kerstin and Emmett's home where the ceremony will take place). And I suddenly thought, "We need to have balloons tied to the mailbox so people know where to turn." And from there, I went into an unseemly micromanagement tizzy, unspoken, inside my head. "Who's going to buy the balloons and blow them up? Should we write Herb and Nora on the balloons in Sharpie?? Coffee filters... someone has to buy coffee filters. And trash bags. What font should the table cards be in? How is the wedding cake going to get here from New York? Do they need a cooler? Who needs a hotel how many electrical outlets who's holding the rings it'll be sunny I should wear a hat can we rent a piano for the bar which guests will want to play music can we change clothes before the reception what kind of envelopes for the invitations..." I mean, it was a full drama queen meltdown. I managed to keep control of the car, but it was a struggle.
Nora, wisely, said, "Hooonnney, that's why we have Melody and Patty. They'll take care of all of that." Like talking to a three-year-old who wants candy in the checkout aisle at the supermarket.
Well, SURE they'll take care of it, but we have to tell them what to take care of. How will they know that we need to make sure that gifts and cards stay together and that guests who bring folk music instruments should play on the porch and whether we should have separate wine and prosecco glasses and we need more than one dessert plate per person or maybe we should have someone washing and restocking dishes and someone has to have the envelopes with payments for the band and Nelson and the catering staff and we still don't have a photographer...
I'm all flushed even now, thinking about it. I need a fainting couch, dearie, I believe I'm having a case of the vapours...
You go through all this so that the years that follow -- the many delicious years ahead of you will seem... simple! Don't worry about the small stuff (and it's all small stuff.) If all we had was all of us on a lawn, each in our most comfy outfits wearing out most blissed-out grins and dabbing tears from the corners of our eyes as you shared your love with each other and with us, it would be enough.
ReplyDelete