First there was mom’s health issues. Then the flurry of excitement and emotion with the wedding. The weeks that have followed have been full of work and a To-do list that is overflowing so it isn’t surprising that when there was finally a break in the action, the immune system would also break down. This week, as I climb out of the fog and congestion, I revisited the online gallery of wedding photos and I was struck by the beauty of this one. There are many transitions in my life right now. Many more in her life. Some are like going out the door and knowing what will greet us. Others are like standing at the door, hand on the knob, wondering what will greet us on the other side.
One more wedding is just a memory now. But all day yesterday, I kept remembering my own wedding day. There were some pieces that were similar, some were very different. My own mom didn’t join the girls until just before the wedding began. I hung out with our bride and her girls as much as I could and still get things done. I don’t know what my mom did at the reception but I know I was busy, busy, busy. And then the bride and groom jumped into the car and drove away and I remembered our own driving away. It is very different to be the one who stays behind. Today is filled with memories of that little girl, now somebody’s wife. It was a lovely day, filled with memories and rememberings, with joy and sorrow, with laughter and tears. I want to linger on this memoir monday for a long time.
Six years ago she pulled up in the car and began unloading. There were piles everywhere. It was the first time I experienced a this ritual of coming home from college with all of her stuff. I remember my amazement as we unpacked the car that first time. It was like something exploded and I thought it would never get put away. This time, she is coming home for a very short time. And then she will be married and I don’t imagine we will have the opportunity to unpack a car in the same way. This morning as I walked down the stairs and saw the piles, I felt a little sad to be moving away from this part of our lives. And again I am reminded that those things that make us nuts might someday be missed. Like kids coming home from college.
I have had a number of people tell me how sorry they are that my mom has Alzheimer’s and at first I did feel very sorry for myself. When my mom stopping picking up the phone to call and chat, when our conversations felt forced and she couldn’t remember for even a few minutes the details of my life, I felt cheated. I wasn’t ready to lose her. But these last few weeks, sitting with her in the hospital, I have found that I am not losing her, we are just redefining our relationship. She reaches for my hand and cups my face as I kiss her goodbye in a way that she hasn’t done since I was a child. And she always asks about the wedding and the bride. How is she doing with all the plans? Is she getting nervous? Is everything ready? She talks more often of my own wedding which she pretty much planned on her own. It amazes me that she is holding on to this piece of our current reality. Just one week and our bride will be ready to walk down the aisle. And it looks like mom will be able to come home and be with us for that important day. So yes, there is loss and many changes that I would never have chosen, but there is also beauty on this new path that we are walking.
In two weeks I will have a married daughter. Over the last 3 1/2 months, we have planned and planned for this big day. But the last few weeks have pulled me in a different direction and yesterday I found myself feeling so split, so uncertain about where to be. I definitely feel a part of the sandwich generation as we talk about feeding mom in one sentence and ordering chairs and cupcakes in the next. Oh yes, let’s not forget to call the heating company for that all important annual servicing. Step by step. Task by task. Anne Lamott said think of life and of writing as a car, driving down the dark road at night, you can only see as far as the headlights go, so focus on that, only as far as the headlights go.
lining up my words 