New Hampshire Part 2
The wedding, and how to carry a Jewish glass.
Where were we? In the mountains in New Hampshire, getting ready for my cousin’s wedding.
The wedding is under a tent, mountainside and spectacular.
My son is in the wedding. His official title is Flower Boy but actually his job is to carry the Jewish glass, so Glass Boy is more appropriate.
As I’m fastening his little bowtie and suspenders, the bride wanders past in green silk pyjamas looking like a 40s film goddess (think Rita Harlow in Gilda). She is exuding supreme chilled-out vibes, which is cool because being supremely chilled out isn’t something I have come to expect from brides on their wedding day. She hands me a cardboard box that says “Jewish glass”.
It’s my son’s responsibility to walk down the aisle, next to one of the flower girls, and bring the glass to the groom — my handsome cousin — so it can be stamped on as part of the ceremony.
I open the box which contains: the glass, a napkin and a little satin bag. I’m familiar with the napkin and …
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