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I Danced at My Daughter's Wedding


My ankle replacement was originally scheduled for June 24th, the week after my daughter's wedding. However, as my post-traumatic stress arthritis worsened and walking became almost impossible, we decided it needed to be moved up.  My primary concern was being able to walk my daughter down the aisle.  In the Jewish tradition both the mother and father walk the bride down the aisle; the groom's parents do the same.  My surgeon, Dr. Nunley, assured me I would be able to join the celebration, although he wasn't sure if it would be in a boot or a shoe, although certainly not in heels.  Since I never wear heels anyway, that was good enough for me, and I rescheduled the date of my ankle replacement to March 30.

Although my recovery was going very well, it was also evident that I would not only be skipping the heels, but I would also be limited to sneakers.  In an earlier post I shared my glammed-up sneaker project, and they were perfect.  Ironically, the mother-of-the-groom also had foot surgery a few months ago, so both of us were in sneaker glory!

My daughter asked me to run a few errands; she needed a kiddish cup for the ceremony which was easy to purchase on Amazon and, in true Amazon fashion, it arrived at my dad's house in New York two days later.  However, the frame for the Ketubah, the Jewish marriage contract, wasn't as easily purchased online. Since Michael's has one of the largest selections I decided to wait until I got to New York, and Friday morning I set out to find a 16" by 24" frame, not a common size.  When I finally located the only one in the store, I reached up to the second shelf, knocking the frame below right on to my bad ankle.  The other people in the store heard a barrage of curses, and I got to sit with an ice pack and fill out an incident report.  After the initial pain, I was fine, with a just a little bruising on my calf, and I was able to finish the rest of my errands.  That small piece of corner cardboard on the floor is the only sign of the fallen frame.
Waiting for an accident to happen

Ubering to the wedding
The wedding was very typically New York with the rehearsal dinner at a Chinese restaurant on the East Side of Manhattan, and the ceremony and reception in a large warehouse in Industry City, near the Brooklyn Marine Terminal.  The bridal party was getting ready in my daughter's small railroad apartment in Greenpoint, and I was staying in a boutique hotel for way too much money, just a few blocks from her home.  It was too far for me to walk the short distance from Box Street to Eagle Street (3 blocks), but the Box House Hotel offers free rides within a mile.  I could have taken my father's car, but everyone seemed worried about my parking and walking.  My brother-in-law drove me to Brooklyn, but, other than that, it was Ubers all weekend, including an Uber ride with the bride and one of her maids of honor from make-up and hair in Greenpoint to Industry City.  The wedding weekend ended with a final Uber from the wedding venue to my dad's home in East Meadow; although it was an expensive ride, it was worth it to stay until the very end.  It was my job, anyway, to make sure the gifts and the Ketubah made it home.

A couple of weeks before the wedding, my daughter asked me if I would be able to dance the hora.  I laughed at her question and thought perhaps I could join in if they pick me up on a chair in the Jewish tradition of dancing the hora. Only the bride and groom were lifted on their chairs (all the parents were probably happy because it's actually very frightening), but to my astonishment, I found myself joining the dance circle.  Perhaps the first few steps were actually dancing; I primarily walked, but I did it!  I danced at my daughter's wedding. It's been 78 days since the ankle replacement, so although I can barely move today, it was quite an accomplishment last night.

The wedding started at 11:30 and at about 5:00 we were politely told the party was over.  By 4:30 my feet told me the party was over, and I lied down on the couch in the room where we were dancing, with a whisky in one hand and ice on my right ankle, courtesy of the bartender.  The only picture I got was a video, and I haven't quite figured out how to upload a video to Blogspot, but perhaps this link to Facebook will work.  Besides, if you are reading this blog you are most likely already a FB friend where I posted the video with a quick snippet of me taking a well-deserved rest. The Wedding Finale





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