Oh for a glimpse of that glorious summer of ’66.  We were both young and we were in love.  The air was sweeter, the grass was greener, and the birds were chirping only for us.

Norma had quit her job to prepare for the wedding, thus she was able to come more often to Montreal.

Together we walked hand in hand enveloped by the tender aura of our young love.  At such moments, all activities seemed to have ceased on the planet and we were the only ones left.

All too soon, however, she would have to go back to New York to carry on with the preparations of the wedding.  She would console me, however, by reminding me that soon we will be together for a lifetime.

*  *  *

I was, and would remain, blissfully unaware of the myriad details involved in preparing for a wedding.

Renting a hall; arranging for the synagogue and the rabbi; lining up a caterer, an orchestra, and a photographer; and ordering the floral arrangements; was only part of the story.  To that should be added buying the wedding gown, the maid of honor dress, and the trousseau of my future wife.  And last but not least, decisions had to be made as to who should be invited and who should be left out.  I remember Norma writing to me and asking for my list of relatives.  I was urged to keep my list short as there was a limit on the number of guests that could be invited.  It was not difficult to comply with her request since most of my relatives were in Israel; I only had Joseph and Esther and their children in New York, and, of course, my parents and my brother and his wife.

I was given the task of making the necessary bookings related to the honeymoon; and arranging the printing of the wedding invitations.  I also rented tuxedos for my father, my brother and myself.

My role in the wedding was obviously not daunting.  Looking at it in retrospect, my in-laws and Norma must have put in a lot of work; a fact that I did not appreciate at the time.

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