Last night Scott and I videotaped a wedding. And aside from realizing that we are both too old to be lugging around cameras and tripods and microphones (oh my!) and staying up that late (didn't get home til almost 1:00 a.m.--I had long since turned into a pumpkin), I was gratified to see that tradition is alive and well at weddings.
We shoot several weddings a year in our business and while they're grueling for us, they are beautiful and sweet and the best part of what we're all about as human beings: family, love, tradition, commitment, love, hope, and, oh yes, love.
The grandparents show us how to enjoy a life well-lived, to be devoted to someone over time, to make sacrifices of the one for the many. The parents model (hopefully) the years of work and struggle and the reward that comes when offspring are good and grown and off on their own path. The little ones, the babies and children of the young families give us hope for the future, a fresh start to set things right, a cure for cancer or the prospect of world peace. At the very least, maybe someone will eradicate the loss of aerable topsoil and stop global warming (okay, that's another topic, I know.) You get my drift.
I love that brides wear white no matter what, that they hand roses to their mothers and their mothers-in-law, that the couple lights the unity candle, that someone reads the love passage from Corinthians, that someone always processes to Pachelbel's Canon in D and that bouquets and garters are thrown, cake is cut and the first dance makes me cry.
In a world where technology does a 180 every 18 months (yet another topic), it is comforting to know that weddings will never really change. Oh, the noveau bride may fill jars with colored sand instead of lighting a candle, but really, as long as it sits on the mantel for a few years, who cares.