Weddings were thin on the ground this week - just five. During one ceremony, the groom got choked up, barely able to say the vows. The dumbstruck groom made me think of AMOUR, a french movie currently playing in a few art houses here in the Bay Area. It's the story of an elderly couple as the wife slowly loses her faculties and slips away. AMOUR won top prize at the Cannes Film Festival, and is nominated for several Oscars. It is by all accounts a powerful and masterfully made film. Despite the acclaim and glowing reviews all around, I won't see it.
Every description of the movie mentions how wrenching it is to see someone lose the person who means the most to him. As I get older, the fear of that loss grows in me. I am more sentimental than I used to be, tearing up at images of loss in songs, TV shows, and even the odd commercial, so sitting through 2 hours of that is a non-starter.
How does someone get so connected to someone else that just the confirmation of that connection overwhelms him? I see the depth of that connection every week, sometimes several times in a single shift. I don't mean to cast aspersions on those couples who aren't moved by the wedding I perform - many have already had elaborate ceremonies or are legally codifying a union they've had for years. Do those marriages where one or both of the partners gets verklempt have a better chance of succeeding? Statistically, no, but I'm guessing it's a good start.
The most memorable witness of the week was the child with a tuxedo shirt like the ones that were all the rage in the '70s who also had spiked hair that looked like a strip of galvanized roofing nails. Not an easy look to pull off.