Circles in the Sky

It was a story told late night in bar. The margaritas helped the telling, and I did my best to listen over noise from the pool table to a girl at a mutual friend's goodbye to San Francisco party. A blond from the Midwest she told a small cluster of us about a wedding she went to over the weekend.

For me weddings come in waves. You can go a year with no one being hitched, and then out of nowhere you are spending your Thursday's shopping at Pottery barn for gifts, Friday's traveling to wherever a college roommate grew up, Saturday's blurring through a reception, and Sunday's trying to make it back for the dry cleaners. The conversations melt. You think you have told the first time you got really drunk with the groom or bride to everyone, but you can't really remember the last time that you did anything with them that wasn't about the wedding.

There are little things that separate the events apart. One might have a "make your own sundaes" at the reception, a barbeque on an Iowa farm, or a cute bridesmaid. This wedding was held on a Sunday. The requested attire was Renaissance.

A satellite keeps in orbit by constantly falling and missing, and some relationships follow the same circle of being too attracted to leave but too uncertain to fall completely. He might have commitment problems. She might think she can do better. Their friends spend hours listening to them in coffee shops or a bar on buffalo wing night. No one is sure.

This is when entropy enters uninvited. People complain that their relationship needs a jolt but freeze when that moment comes. Six months ago she found out she had liver cancer.

I can't quite hear about the treatment process - a couple next to me is talking about a triathlon. There is something about not getting a transplant and the medication not really working. She is going to switch to a different type of treatment, but it looks like she has about three months left.

I don't know when he proposed or how she could plan for the event. Maybe the secret is to keep it simple: gather a few friends and find a good beach on a hotter than normal Indian summer day.

The crashing waves and gawking gulls served as music. A large hat hid her baldness. They wanted each of guests to bless the wedding rings during ceremony. They gathered in a circle and passed the rings around. Somebody held the ring up to the sky. Somebody held the ring close to their heart.

One by one family and friends spoke. Nobody was thinking about Pottery Barn.

The girl telling the story wandered to get another round of margaritas and the rest of the crowd went either to the restroom or to the pack playing pool. Now alone except for a coaster I watched Newtonian physics of the balls on the pool table colliding and breaking away, and then glanced up to see mingling of old friends, the flirting of new acquaintances, and the contemplating of those also alone at different tables or next to pillars. A few hugged the one leaving San Francisco and I realized the great need to celebrate in front of partings.