Before our children were even born, my husband and I agreed that the one principle we would never abandon in our house is that we would marinate our family in love. That proved to be successful 30 years later but awfully challenging to practice when we wanted to quickly solve problems and eliminate pain. Marination takes time and love brings healing but not before the pain. Franciscan Monk Richard Rohr has written about pain many times. One of his famous quotes is, “If you don’t transform your pain you will transmit your pain.” I thought about this for many years as I was rediscovering myself after alcohol addiction. This moment of participating in our daughter’s transformation from single to married woman brings with it great joy and deep reflection on the years she and her husband have ahead of them, including pain. I hope her childhood of marinating in love brings strength, emotional depth, richness and solace to her in the years that lie ahead.
In less than 3 weeks our daughter is marrying her high school sweetheart. The longevity of the relationship really adds to the normal sweetness of a wedding in so many ways. Neither of them had a driver’s license when they met in carpool, for instance! That’s a long time friend. To add to the sentimentality of the occasion my daughter and her fiance have chosen my lifetime friend (because our Dads became friends in boarding school in 1945), to officiate their wedding. There will be alot of history, familiarity and excitement in the church and afterward. I’m trying to conserve my emotional reserves right now, and as a “feeler” in general, this is not an easy business.
I came down with a nasty case of shingles a few weeks ago that went undiagnosed and therefore improperly treated during the incredibly painful phase for several days. This, in spite of “doing everything right” and getting a vaccine and booster to prevent. As a newly diagnosed ADHD Gen X 60 year old “young old” woman, the amount of executive function planning and executing the prevention of this horrible situation was vast (for me). And now the emotional regulation (of which I have been largely operating on a low fuel tank for 60 years) it is taking to quietly ride this situation out while the hourglass vividly dispenses with the narrowing timeframe I have for healing before the big day is challenging me. I had to quickly write this before my first gabapentin (for neuralgia pain) because of the fatigue. I’m not in control of what’s happening, of course, and this bout with a painful condition reminds me I never was. All I can do is stay calm and heal.
Oh, and to throw in some emotional confetti to the mix, I am grieving my dear friend Caryl, who would have delighted in every moment of this wondrous period of my life. Caryl would have been eager to hear minute details, including how I was feeling through every magical moment (from her perspective) of the Mother of the Bride experience. I still feel her presence and support and our friendship connection could never be broken by the separation from her death. But it HURTS alot right now. I was not expecting my daughter’s wedding to uncover a gaping hole I apparently feel from the loss of Caryl, but it did. Another situation I can’t do anything about. All I can do is stay calm and heal.
On the morning of my wedding 30 years ago, my sweet cousin Pete recalls watching my Mom just before the ceremony, and she commented to him “I think I’m going to moan!” I thought that was HILARIOUS for years. And now here I am in the same situation. Time has a way of giving us the gift of perspective but often, tragically, only after it is too late to offer the person experiencing the raw emotion from the past an expression of kindness and empathy. I don’t think I will moan at my daughter’s wedding but there is no guarantee I won’t because I have never been here before. Out of consideration for her, I plan to focus on something interesting about the architecture of the church when I feel an “emotional swell.”
This marriage signifies a change in our lives and expansion of our family and that is good. But as a Mom, I can’t help but see the darling little girl who filled my heart and home with so much life, curiosity, intensity, courage, spirit, connection and unwavering purpose moving forward without me. The same feeling I had driving away from her precious blond head walking towards her dorm at the University of Arkansas 9 years ago. Oh, that Brandi Carlile song, “You Without Me,” better not start blasting in my brain as I watch her Dad walking her down the aisle:
“There you are, my morning star, I wondered when you’d show Give me just a quick thumbs up, a wink before you go I never heard that voice before today, I remind myself to breathe I’m ever just a thought away, if ever you need me You’re gonna live a lot of life you’re gonna see a lot of years God willing, just you without me There you are, just you without me”
“You Without Me” Brandi Carlile
And so, I am choosing to view my life right now as a quiet house rather than an empty one. I will find myself again during the quiet days and on the rambunctious days I get to reunite with my adult children and their beloved people, I will simply marinate in love.
Cheeky Street 