another one bites the dust.
well, it's over. i am still in comatose form, so thank god i don't have to work again tomorrow. i took today off to enjoy adam and erin, which i have been doing, but i didn't realize how just utterly spent i would be. i feel dead to the world, but with bath, book, and keyboard...am coming back to life.
it has taken me almost six years to realize that i am indeed a big sister. i fought it for quite some time. as i am the baby in my immediate family, i have always gladly received the love of my older siblings with very little responsibility or concern. i was not flippant about them, but felt free to love them and let them live their lives. i fear they felt not this freedom with me.
but then i married into a family in which i was now the oldest.
and with julie, i feel this loss of flippant sisterhood, the transition of being the baby to being the oldest... i am an influence, plain and simple, and i fought it for so long because i never wanted to be looked up to, but i knew it was inevitable. i didn't want to have to weigh my words or be careful with her, but i had to.
and while we both desperately try to save face with levels of our admiration, i am realizing now that i had been much too distant with my daily praise and entirely too casual in expressing my approval. but i realize now that i am indeed attached to her. i DO feel responsible for her choices and her life. and what's sad is that with the realization of my attachment to her and the fact that she is oh so easy to love comes the realization that now i must let her go.
and into his arms she falls.
she was painfully beautiful that day. her beauty is so decidedly different from most women i know, and i think it's because i know her so intimately. julie has fiercely and courageously battled the demons of her own perceived ugliness, and facing this beast head-on has left the scars of battle that deepen the most beautiful wounds inside of her. this beauty is tangible, eccentric, fascinating, and legendary.
and for this beauty, i do admit, that sometimes i hate her. see photo above from one of the most FIERCE photographers i know.
when i close my eyes and see the wedding day, here is my visual montage...
- julie hugging me as she left for her honeymoon, tears streaming down her face at how touched she was. oh, and tim hugging me with deep meaning and then sweetly asking me to do him a favor. anything, i responded. can you find my shoes? i looked down and he was totally barefoot. harrr.
- dancing with wild abandonment in the sand on the beach - watching the sun set.
- anthony screaming, "i am black" on the dance floor.
- watching my friends work their little tails off for my sister. this community overwhelms me.
- dancing on the chairs with kelly, devon, jessica, and erin to "we are family."
- joel being just buzzed enough to actually fast dance with me. we are trying not to make a BIG DEAL OUT OF IT! OH MY GOSH, IT WAS SO AMAZING.
- the couple's first dance together, which was a choreographed dance that blew my dancing socks off.
- seeing erin walk into the reception hall.
- watching grandpa sob as dad presented julie with our recently passed grandmother's bible. while on her deathbed, she asked jonathan to give it to julie.
- seeing the sun come out for what has been the loveliest day in june so far. shame on me for doubting.
- watching julie skip up my sidewalk hill in her veil and flip flops, giddy with innocent and girly awareness that it was indeed her wedding day.
- kelly's apartment overwhelmed with beautiful flowers, which were the greatest edible temptation to her cat. turns out he threw them up later.
in other recent awareness, i have come to terms with my own perceived sense of photogenic beauty. i am realizing more and more that i am simply not the super model i feel like inside. this is not a time where i want anyone to convince me of my fabulousness, i am well aware of a deep and abiding beauty that i possess. but this is a time where i too confront my own perceptions of self...what is candace? what is the candace that translates in photographs? why is it that i always feel so much more elegant and poised and beautiful than any picture can seem to capture? why is a dimensionally-limited photograph always a disappointment to my inner perception of self? it is just that i can't find a photo that can capture how vibrant, awake, and alive i feel inside. since i cant find that photo, see below for silly one's mom took. i am sure i will be sharing plenty more to come.
i am not finished pursuing that photo, though. i will find my someday when the translation of my beauty is fierce. i probably need to hire april. :)