A friend is traveling to Denmark to help celebrate her brother's silver anniversary. Denmark makes a bigger deal about that particular milestone than is typical in the states, in fact it is as anticipated as the wedding itself.
Guests knock on the door at seven a.m. accompanied by a brass trio, and are invited to a breakfast of Danish pastry
and coffee. The musicians play traditional wedding songs while neighbors and guests linger for hours under a canopy. The night before friends sneak in to decorate the windows, and to hang a garland with silver shoes and a sign saying "25 Years of Marriage!" That evening there is a formal banquet, with dancing, speeches and music. The festivities finally crest about two the next morning.
I wonder if such hoopla could ever take hold in the U.S. This
month there were the graduations for the local elementary and high schools, with indications of shindigs on every street. I live across from a rentable venue and heard laughter and talking late into the night. There were cars with out of state plates, ferrying students home after exams, jammed with the essential belongings of the triumphant senior.
Yet I scratch my head to recall the last event I attended to commemorate a long term marriage. I
went to one for a thirtieth a few years back, which was held in the couple's garden. Most of their six kids were there, and the guests told stories about why we love them. But there were no trumpets.
I intend to raise a glass of sparkling cider on the fortieth anniversary of when John and I wed, a few years in the future. But why did the twenty fifth breeze past without so much as a helium balloon or silver slippers? Certainly a mature marriage takes more time and effort
than a diploma. Heck even the two year old preschool program I led this year had a splash, albeit only cookies and The Eensy Weensy Spider, and that was merely the culmination of four hours a week for eight months.
Maybe I can rustle up a few friends and commemorate our thirty fifth, which is around the corner. I may even spring for balloons.