Love Over Duty, Love Over Dismay: Palo Alto, California 1968

You are absolutely fearless about designing and sewing. You believe in yourself, because sewing runs in the family and you sew David's wedding outfit by hand. He carries himself like a dancer in this costume he designed in his head and described to you. White rayon and linen windowpane checked bell bottom trousers worn under a Renaissance styled, deep purple velvet pullover shirt with huge sleeves. David's hair is strawberry blonde, unruly, and long for those early days of hippie hair. Your floor length white dress was made for and worn for the first time as your high school graduation dress in June. You'd fashioned it after a photograph of your great aunt Christine's very own high school graduation in 1918. It was made with two layers of white fabric, one soft cotton, the other sheer cotton, with a hundred tucks and inset lace panels circling the full length of the dress and its long sleeves. The high collar was intricately stitched with lace and twenty-five covered buttons spilled down the back and down the sleeves to the cuffs. 

Your Dad is furious and tells you the family will not be at your wedding, though you cannot remember anything in his face, his words, his instructions, his reasons. They are gone. You do remember your Mom's face, her lips telling you her why not. You cannot hear a word and though her volume is somehow turned off, her eyes speak of great disappointment and wariness for you. David's family immediately and clearly assures you they do not support this marriage and have no intention of attending. You place a stamp on the envelope of your handmade invitations and allow your heart the very faintest hope.