ABOUT WEDDINGS

Over the years, I have experienced many weddings. The first being my own in 1952. Since that time, the nuptial event has touched my life in many ways.  The latest being the Wedding of my adopted granddaughter, Heather Morice, and it is with pleasure I wish Nathan and Heather Turner the best as the couple begin their lives together.

My part in their wedding began with a journey to western Oklahoma, a formidable task at my age. We left early (for us anyway) at 9:00 am with the day’s destination to be Paris, TX.  Imagine a van load of wedding gifts (the cache from a Bridal Shower of a few weeks earlier), a lovely young woman (my granddaughter, Tasha) anxious to drive and well-equipped with electronics (iphone, ebooks with X-File stories), and my daughter, Robyn, with only the thought to keep up her classes for the Masters’ she has resolved to complete within this year.  Add to this scene all the paraphernalia needed for a wedding, in which all three of us had a part.  Crowded to the hilt, stressed to the limit, and a long, hot, road ahead, we climbed into the old van (assured by the mechanic, but not guaranteed that it was road-worthy) and began the journey.

“Only about 500 miles to Paris,” Robyn said, as she leaned back with her notes and computer to work on the last phases of the course facing her.  Tasha relaxed behind the wheel looking fresh and searching for a coffee shop with the eagle eye of the young.  I tried to relax with my knitting at my side in the jam-packed space.  Looking forward to six days of hotel living, I insisted upon too many toys, but they graciously accommodated my trappings without too much objecting.  Later, I heard that Tasha said,”Mommo (that’s me) and Maggie, Mandy’s, (the Maid of Honor and Heather’s sister) dog, were the heaviest travelers.  It seemed that Maggie’s baggage consisted of a huge dog food bin, her bed, dishes, and box of toys, and mine consisted of normal baggage, a hat box, a computer bag, a medicine bag, a knitting bag, and a folding walker. I admit, I never travel light.

But, I digress.  We made Paris later than expected after a long, hot ride with intermittent rainstorms to slow progress, at least a dozen stops, and surging stress from all sides.  The hotel room, crowded but adequate, felt great.  To be honest, I slept most of the trip listening to X-Files, a seven-hour story that droned on with adventure.  Entertaining, but so predictable that I could take twenty-minute sleep breaks and not miss any of the real story. 

Next morning, we left early (for us) and set the Google Maps destination for Woodward, Oklahoma, by late afternoon. One adventure after another, we doggedly searched for coffee shops.  One is remarkable, located in a small town in Texas, not sure where.  A typical western style, wooden floors, cultural décor on every open space on the walls, colorful local cowboys enjoying coffee mid-morning (I wondered about the status  of the ranches round about), but they had the modern iced-coffee Tasha craved to keep her focused for driving.  I asked for tea. Now, you would think that would be simple. Too many choices – I chose wrong. One swallow and I dumped the rest of the $5.00 cup.  Northeastern Texans apparently don’t care for hot tea.

Back on the highway – WOW, do we ever need tending to our infrastructure!  I could only think of Mark Twain’s comments. Riding in a stage coach is likened to “a cradle on wheels.” Believe me, our roads, as observed from the back seat of a fourteen-year-old Dodge van by an 82 year-old-lady, represent rather vividly what I can imagine that “cradle on wheels” ride must have been across the hills and plains of Louisiana, Texas, and Oklahoma.  My bones ached dramatically by “dark-thirty” as we traveled, the driver swerving often to avoid “bad roads.”

Oklahoma, a new experience for me, is beautiful, rolling hills, intermingled with miles of level plains, stretching before the observer.  Greener than expected, the terrain has experienced heavier than normal rainfall recently.  Amazing to me were the acres of windmills, or wind-generators, as some would call them, rising like silver, monstrous, towers of constant movement glistening in the sunlight across the plains of mid-Oklahoma.  I thought of my first view of oil derricks in southern Texas as, in 1948, my family drove through for the first time. Ugly, with their black creosoted wood structure, they rose like a blight on the otherwise pristine horizon. Gratefully, the oil industry conquered that era with more visibly acceptable equipment.

In talking with local folks, Oklahomans are divided as to the wind-generating dialogue. Many believe the wind power, along with other resources, is the future for energy.  However, with many years of research behind, the program remains questionable with growing costs, danger to the wildlife environment, and the vast amount of space required to produce power.  Oklahoma hopes to have a program in effect by 2017 to generate 15% of the State’s energy requirement.  Not the most glowing report considering the negatives that accompany the windmill.  Even so, I thought they were unique and beautiful rolling against the Oklahoma sky.

We made many coffee stops, one a truck stop with a huge teepee structure that could be seen for a long distance, reminding the traveler of the prominence of the Native American population, the Shawnee especially at this location.  As we climbed from the van, Tasha, looking back, exclaimed, “Mom, the car is falling apart!” Investigation revealed the stop-brake light had broken and hung by a wire to the van.  The, exceptionally well- equipped for this remote area, stop became critical at this point as it provided the duct tape Robyn needed to hold the van together.

We arrived in Woodward, dark-thirty, on Wednesday, hungry, tired, stressed, but happy to check into the Holiday Inn Express that stood like a beacon just off the main highway. A lavishly accommodating, huge space, two rooms and a kitchen, with excellent customer service.  I unloaded my baggage into the dresser drawers in the spacious room, set up my computer, kicked off my shoes, and made myself at home. THE ADVENTURE HAD ONLY JUST BEGUN!!!

If you’re interested, ABOUT WEDDINGS, will be continued.