Every year around June, my friends and coworkers start bringing up wedding season and talking about how busy I must be. They’re not thinking about my deadlines (which do in fact coincide with what is traditionally the busiest “I do” month of the year); they actually assume I go to all the best weddings in the city. And because I like imaging myself eating cake in a pretty dress with a new bunch of happy strangers every weekend, I don’t always bother to correct them. Let them think that these party-planning pages guarantee attendance at your actual party. Let them think I’m that popular. What can it hurt?
So when, on warm summer evenings, I drive past Sodo Park and see giant clouds of white jumbo balloons tied to the front steps, I picture myself walking inside and accepting a glass of Champagne. And as I’m pulling weeds in my garden and the sun breaks through the afternoon gray, I think, “Just in time.” I love spending the summer knowing that someone, somewhere is making the most beautiful promise.
And here’s the thing: There are lots of someones, and many somewheres. The emphasis is on making it “your day,” but no matter how singular your ceremony and reception are, isn’t there something awfully wonderful about being part of a larger community-—a lovers’ club of those kissing that kiss and dancing that dance?
It’s exciting that right now we’re watching that club grow. When the senate passed the marriage equality bill this past February, all people in love, regardless of their gender and orientation, got one big step closer to truly sharing the security and bliss of the covenant and the celebration. If Washington voters uphold the law in November, those of you getting married thereafter will do it in the most egalitarian and inclusive environment ever. You’ll do it knowing that everyone who wants to do it is able to as well.
The only thing better than love: more love. As if I needed more reason to cry at weddings. I mean, you know, assuming I’m going to any weddings.