It was held in Megan's parents' home, in the historic district of Tacoma. The house is one of those early finely-crafted homes that aren't made anymore, with the superior attention to architect- ural details like special intricate moldings, a spot of mosaic marble on the floor, and enchantments in every room.I will have to admit that I didn't take many photographs, but rather used my video camera most of the afternoon, capturing all the friends and family as they mingled in different rooms of the home and out in the patio.
This lovely older home has three 'living rooms', one large formal one with a fireplace, another that seems like a parlor or sitting room looking out onto the backyard garden, and another that is like a den right off the kitchen. People sat and chatted everywhere, even downstairs in a large media room where Taraz showed his video of the wedding. A long divan was against a wall, and families and children took their refreshments down there.
Megan's fraternal grandparents, Allen and Sarah, caught in a relaxed moment at the end of the day when the gathering had subsided, are as gracious and friendly as they appear here. (They would like Megan and Taraz to spend Thanksgiving with them this year, and asked if that would be O.K. I encouraged it, as we have indefinite plans for November - George and I want to fly to California to visit his brother and I'd like to visit my sister Bonnie sometime in late November.)
This is Chris, a friend of Taraz's. He works as a musician in our community, leading 'open mike' in some of the coffee-houses and clubs. He played folk music while friends and family looked through the 'wedding album', finding their favorite memories.
And this little guy did not want to go home with me, in spite of all the little squeezes and conversations we had. He was simply precious, and I would have easily assumed all the challenges of motherhood once again had he done so. But, balloons and his big brother became a major distraction, and our conversation came to naught. He had the most cheerful disposition, and I must admit that a significant amount of my videotaping involved following him around. He is about a year and a half old, and had not seen such a magnificent stairway as was presented by the one down to the media room. I couldn't help cheering him along, as he surmounted each step, then challenged by the next one, alternately frustrated or delighted in the process. I thought the attitudes he brought to that endeavor is what is really required in marriage. It is a matter of learning how to negotiate all the little steps that provide healthy patterns and stability. It requires re-working and re-examining, learning the art of careful thought and conversation. 
As I watched Taraz and Megan, I noticed that in the short month that they've been married, Megan has become even more beautiful, and Taraz is learning .....to listen! I told him, early on, to be a good listener, as oftentimes in conversations a woman just wants the comfort of dialogue. Some men want short conversations, with the thought being to solve problems quickly. There are significant differences in the tone and intent of both approaches. When I came home from our family gathering, I continued reading "An Intimate History of Humanity" by Theodore Zeldin. He writes a fascinating chapter on loneliness and how people devise strategies to confront it. He says that everyone needs small doses of diverse relationships, that in order to survive side by side with others it is necessary to absorb a minute part of others, and that curiosity about others is essential to one's very own existence. He shows how the world is not just a vast, frightening wilderness... some kind of order is discernible in it, and that the individual, however insignificant, contains echoes of that coherence. He writes:
"People who believe in some supernatural power have their loneliness mitigated by the sense that, despite all the misfortunes that overwhelm them, there is some minute divine spark inside them: that is how they are immunized.
Those who have no such faith can develop a sense of being useful to others, and can recognise a link of generosity between themselves and others, rational and emotional connections which mean that they are part of a wider whole, even though they may be unable to decipher fully its enigmas and cruelties. Much of what is called progress has been the result of solitary individuals saved from feeling totally alone, even when persecuted, by the conviction that they have grasped a truth, a fragment of a much wider one too large to capture. "
