Fwd: Wide Awake

                           DUSTY, MUSTY DREAM

 

Waking from a dream of parents, long dead, former homes filled with families I don't know, jewelry I never had and my double bed occupied by one, I realized the grimy windows that covered years needed washing.

 

Only semi-awake, I tumbled, I rolled back 53 years and there I was taping gardenias to the narrow arch between the living and dining rooms of my parents' house. Bossy I, arms across my chest, was telling my sister how to walk down the stairs, where to stack the folding chairs, how to decorate the delly platters. Where was my brother-in-law's best friend who was to be early to take 'formal' pictures? Where is the pillow to hold my ring? 'Don't let Sophia bring little Doris. I told you 'No kids!' In the quiet of my room I stand in my blue satin dress, size 12, trimmed down to a 7, by a seamstress in an elegant shop. With the extra fabric she made a hat with a birdcage veil to top my wedding outfit and I looked great.

 

I can hear the chatter downstairs. Get rags, more rags. My dusty mind is bleary. I can't see Ray. I don't see anyone. But here I go–step down , bring the other foot forward, another slow step, hear the violin. Walk with it. 'Daddy, are you there?' There's my boss, my wonderful Aunt Lil, a friend, a few relatives sitting in those folding chairs–and I walk to the arch, my little white bible dripping white ribbons and tiny flowers. Rabbi Landers waits for me. The vocalist sings badly. And then silence.

I stand beside my groom with thoughts of my teen love bursting in the door, stopping the marriage. He doesn't come. Bam, the towel covered wine glass shatters. Noise, applause, people crowd around me asking foolish questions. 'Is marriage hard?' 'I don't know, I just got married!'
Too many people, too little room.

 

Downstairs Daddy set up a bar and even hired a bartender. Nates, my brother-in-law and two help, filled and re-filled the potato salad bowl, brought out more and more kosher corned beef, salami. My newer brother-in-law tells me I gave one sick look at my husband during the service and I had thought it was a lovely, romantic look like Loretta Young might have given. . How am I feeling? Am I enjoying my wedding? Am I happy, frightened? I don't know.

 

And then the shadows fall again. I emerge in my purple suit, big brown hat, patent leather pumps, brown leather gloves and outstanding white lynx muff. Daddy's car waits. Where is Mama? We go to the train station. It is chilly waiting for the N.Y. bound train. There's Rose, Annette. I can't see Ray's mother or even Ray. He has to be here but I don't feel him near. I'm not wearing a coat but I must have one. Where is my suitcase? Did I buy one or did I use Daddy's tan one with brown stripes? Did Ray have one or did he pack his things in mine?  When did I pack? What did I pack? My boldly patterned orange and brown dress, a black lacy night gown and a pink one too have to be in something. What? Where is my underwear, my clothes for daytime, a sweater? I am wearing earrings and should have packed two more pairs, all alike except for colors. Did I bring them?

 

On the train I see rice fall from my orchid corsage. The lady sitting across the aisle from us smiles. Ray sits close by my side and we open envelopes, counting the checks, making notes on little tan pads that have covers of Petty girls.

 

New York! New York! We pull in, finally find a porter and head for the Astor–not the Waldorf Astoria–just the Astor. A bellboy takes us to our 5th floor room that has twin beds! Ray is embarrassed but I insist he call the desk and change our room to a double bedded one. The bellboy snickers but moves us.

 

We decide to take a walk. Broadway lights, Chesterfield smoke rings from a huge billboard. Maxwell house coffee steams above us. So exciting. Our taste buds quiver and we stop for a dozen donuts to take back to our room. I become a vulture and eat far more than my share. The box gets emptier and emptier until only one is left. I leave it. In the bathroom I  put on my night gown, come out to find Ray in his striped pajamas sitting on the edge of the bed, eating the last donut.

 

What is happening? My lights are growing dimmer. The spider is weaving a heavier web. I keep trying but that moment is elusive.

 

I open my eyes and find my face wet with tears.