The Bouquet

In our basement we have a second kitchen. Over time the kitchen has turned into a receptacle for anything worth keeping or anything that refuses to be thrown out. On the countertop amidst the Christmas china set, an old knife block and a balloon hand pump there sits a dusty bouquet.

The bouquet is mine, or at least I think it’s mine. Anna and I were bridesmaids at our brother’s wedding and when she flew back to Nova Scotia, she left her bouquet behind. I remember keeping the better of the two and tossing the other one out, but whether it was mine or hers that got tossed, I don’t remember.

The bouquet reminds me of the bridesmaid dress hanging upstairs, never to be worn again. Anna took hers home and announced that she’d probably turn it into throw cushions for her couch.

But what the bouquet really reminds me of is my brother’s military styled planning of the wedding. As an engineer, he prepared Gantt charts with every detail of the wedding referenced and cross referenced. Each of us received our own personalized Gantt chart clearly indicating where/when/why and what we were to be doing every moment of that day. From the early morning hair salon appointment to the end of the day car pooling, it was a study in precision.

Unfortunately, the only thing I remember about the Gantt chart was that it demonstrated Paolo’s inability to spell. For there on everyone’s copy of the Gantt chart almost at the end of the evening was listed an event I was certainly looking forward to.

10:30pm Gina throws the bucket.