The Confetti Woman

& what she taught me about joy, grief, and celebrating little moments

It was a bone-chilling cold day in New York City in January 2018. I’d just taken three trains to get to the courthouse where I was submitting document requests for my job, and I was starving.

Thank God I stopped for a hotdog. Otherwise, I may have missed her.

As I thanked the Halal cart man and handed him a $5 bill, I spun around to see a woman wearing a fuchsia dress with a fur coat waiting by the courthouse exit.

I finished my hotdog just as I got to the top of the steps and she waved me down.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” she said in a dramatic sing-song voice. I wasn’t used to strangers bothering me much since I’d moved to New York. Well, there was that and the fact that I had my headphones in. I gently pulled one from my ear and looked at her expectantly.

“Do you work here? Have they come out yet?” she asked in rapid succession.

“I do not,” I replied. “And who are you waiting for?”

“The newlyweds,” she said with exasperation as if I should have known.

“I’m not sure,” I told her and began to walk inside. That’s when I felt her claws in my arm. I nearly hissed.

“Can you find out for me?” she asked.

It was only then that I noticed she was holding a giant bag of confetti. Like an XL ziplock bag full.

“What are you doing?” I asked her, motioning to the bag. “Do you know someone who is getting married today?”

“No,” she said. “I just love love.”

I laughed, which made her laugh too.

“Okay,” I said, and I went inside long enough to ask the miserable-looking security guard about the timing of civil ceremonies that day.

When I came out, she had mysteriously doubled her confetti, pulling another bag out of her jacket or purse. She handed it to me.

“12:15 is the first one,” I told her.

“Marvelous,” she said and proceeded to go to the other side of the doorway.

“So I have to ask,” I said, “Why do you do this? Besides the loving love thing.”

“Well,” she started to tell me when the first couple exited the building.

“Congratulations!” she yelled.

“Mazel Tov!” she screamed again when she noticed the young man wearing a yamika. The bride was glowing, and you could tell by the way they twirled around and around that they hadn’t been expecting her.

“Well, are you going to help?” she asked me.

“Oh God, of course,” I said, as I reached deep into my bag and threw some into the air.

I watched it spiral downward and I thought to myself that perhaps this woman was onto something.

The second couple emerged from the courthouse, and it was two stunning women, both in white dresses. This time, I didn’t wait. I flung my confetti in the air, as both girls cried.

Through sobs, they hugged us and told us that none of their family members recognized their marriage. They thanked us for such a special surprise, and I snapped a photo with them on one of their phones.

“That’s why,” she told me as we watched them saunter away. They had a new pep in their step. She had just turned their civil ceremony into a wedding.

“Did you have a big wedding?” I asked her. She looked like the kind of woman who would have. Her fingers were dripping in rings, and I imagined this to be a hobby she took up every Thursday between tennis and book club. Her wedding announcement was probably featured in The New York Times.

“Oh no, dear,” she said solemnly. “I never got the chance to marry.”

“But you love love!” I proclaimed. “Surely you...”

Which is when I noticed tears forming in her eyes, and wrinkles forming on her otherwise smooth forehead.

“I lost him too young,” she said. “He was the love of my life, but no dear, I never married, and I never moved on.”

She patted me on the shoulder, took a deep breath, and marched back over to the other side of the door. When she turned back around, she was as composed as ever.

“Shall we?” she asked. It was nearly 1 o’clock.

I was due back at the office at any time, but instead, I texted my producer to let her know I’d be late.

“Let’s,” I said and dug my fingers deep again into the bag.

"So do you carry confetti with you..” I started to ask when she nodded.

“Yes. Everywhere. You never know when there will be cause for a spectacular celebration.”