I came home from work to find the house empty of wedding guests for the first time in ten weeks. I’m rattling around this big empty house finding evidence of good times. There are the photographer’s proofs but then there’s the stuff we don’t have pictures of, the memories left to our hearts and heads.
The play pen is empty of sweet baby sounds.We have nine beds and nobody sleeping in eight of them. There are no sisters to knit with and Gracee is going through tug of war withdrawal.
Jelly beans are hiding in odd places in every room. Elina’s wedding favours were jelly bellies in little round tins, however they were overlooked at the reception and the excess have become a staple of the Boesen diet in recent weeks. Do pear jelly bellies count as a fruit?
Pre-wedding chores that had to be done, that didn’t get done, are still there. No grout on the kitchen tiles; the entry door still shakes uncontrollably when you close it. Only now it’s deafening because the house is so empty.
There’s evidence of wedding – a white dress in a heap on the closet floor, six cake knives with celedon bows and a dozen beribboned Akvavit glasses. A box of leftover invitations, a worn out dishwasher, and thankfully, only a few unpaid bills. There is a jug of well utilized spot remover, a recycling bin filled with cans and bottles and five additional pounds around my middle.
I’ve found an odd assortment of foundations: bustiers, crinolines, push up bras devoid of anything to push up. There’s a box that held a "Free Bra – a new definition of freedom." An odd concept for a wedding.
About this wedding thing, I can honestly say that I never spent any time dreaming of my kid’s weddings, they seemed too young and my dreams were of their education. I could visualize graduations but not marriages. So, this was an educational experience for me. A positive one, all in all. But, it’s over now, and it’s so quiet here.
Can you tell I’m sad? This won’t come as a surprise, a teacher once told me I’m gregarious by nature.

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