By: The crumpling of the wrapping paper rose above the chatter of women as their talk subsided. Silence coated the room as all eyes peered to see the next gift. Sheets were opened and commanded "oooohhhs" and "ahhhhs" while the bride held back the tears over her new bedding. I wondered how the difference between a toaster and a toaster oven could become a twenty-minute conversation. I stood there thinking at what point in my life did it become acceptable to get excited over new appliances. I looked at the bride-to-be in amazement of how she was so easily going along with these shenanigans, and enjoying it too! She was a tenure teacher with a master’s degree whose eyes were lighting up as each tear of paper revealed another gift. She was like a kid at Christmas morning - when you get everything on your list. The absurdity of this event still left me perplexed. How can intelligent, modern women sit around and watch one woman open present after present, appliance after appliance? Wasn’t there a better way to waste someone’s time? Because the bride was my soon to be sister in law I was designated co-hostess of the shower. I made the toast, threw out some jokes and walked to every table and made sure all the women had enough food, enough to drink and that the air conditioner was just right. Some didn’t remember who I was. Coming from a large family, I haven’t seen most of the attendees in years. Cousins of my father asked me how school was; obviously forgetting I’ve long since graduated. One of my distant relatives called me Pamela, who is my cousin six months my junior. I let it go, considering I had no idea who was who until they sat where I placed their name cards. We played Bridal Shower Bingo to break the monotony of opening all the presents but the silence still crept up while my mother and I handed Kristen another gift to open. Despite our efforts it wasn’t quick enough and I thought I saw beads of sweat forming on my mother’s forehead. The moments of empty stares started to worry me. As absurd I thought the day was I took my job as hostess seriously. I tried to think quick and mentally scanned all of the wedding shower web sites I looked through to prepare. I felt a bead of sweat forming on my own forehead. I remembered a game where each guest writes a piece of advice for the bride and then places it in a bowl. The bride reads them aloud during the shower. This would have been a perfect idea if I had brought pieces of paper to hand out and if I handed them out before we started opening gifts. Just when I thought it was too late and that I failed as a bridal shower hostess I had an epiphany. I asked the ladies to write on the back of their bingo cards words of advice for the bride and then volunteer to say what they wrote in between presents. It worked like a charm and I stopped perspiring. The words of advice came flying towards the bride like rice on the wedding day. Words carried the wisdom of women from ages 26 to 85. It was amazing. "Never go to bed angry," one Aunt said. "Pretend to have headache every now and then," said a Great Aunt. "If you think twice about saying something, don’t say it," said a cousin. Each phrase blanketed my brother’s fiancée with support, love and acceptance. I thought it was funny how an event where ogling over a Dirt Devil while playing Bridal Shower Bingo could transform into an heartfelt inauguration into our family. Sure, the food was a bonus and my entertaining jokes came with free admission, but the overall female comradery was remarkable. I started to realize the importance of a tradition that has long lost its meaning. A wedding shower is not about opening gifts, playing ridiculous games, eating free food, or even the mimosas; it’s about the bonding of these women who traveled hours like a clan reuniting with their extended tribe to welcome a newcomer. The day progressed and the
tone in the room transformed from frivolous to meaningful. Conversation topics
escalated from dishes and platters to marriage and love. The power of the feminine
family together was awe-inspiring. I looked around the room and saw my family
and was proud. As I began to see the ties that bonded each of us in the room,
whether it be blood or marriage, I started to recognize each person’s face
a bit more. There were shared features throughout the room; my Grandmother’s
nose on my cousin’s faces, the jet black hair of her Mexican heritage framing
the faces of my father’s cousins. The sporadic freckles adorning the faces
of my Mom and her twin adorned mine as well. As the day ended and all the gifts
were opened the guest of honor tried to hold back the tears as she thanked us
all for the gifts and, more importantly, for the acceptance into our family. Her
tears couldn’t be held back as her emotions overcame her. As they fell down
her cheek my eyes started to well up too. Through my blurred vision I saw tears
form in the eyes of every woman in there. The inauguration was complete and my
family expanded to include one more. Jessica Reno read archived articles | submit an article for review
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