This week I’ve decided to take up sewing, paint the interior of my house (after I redecorate) and-oh, I don’t know-maybe take up sky-diving. This is my usual M.O. when I’m up against anything that falls under the heading of BIG EVENT NECESSITATING EMOTIONAL TAXATION otherwise known as Daughter Getting Married. This is our sixth child to marry and judging from my past experiences, some things never change.
The day before our fourth son Chris married Esther I decided we needed a small brick wall all around the front of our house RIGHT NOW (if I believed in Freud this could be interesting). I ended up with a wheelbarrow of bricks upended on my leg and I’m pretty sure I broke it, but laying on the lawn bargaining with God with everything in my pockets (I’ll give you this rubber band and two marbles) he took them and healed me, but left a limping reminder not to do such a stupid thing again. Not that I had to beg, but I think God is amused when I do.
Let’s see…where was I…oh yeah… anyway, at the park after the rehearsal dinner, the sun was setting and I saw Esther and Chris walking off to their car. Mental lightning struck: MY SON IS GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW! Which, ya’ know, if I’d been paying any attention and not laying bricks, I would have realized earlier. I panicked, “CHRIS!” He dropped Esther’s hand and came back to see what I needed. I stood there alone with my arms full of pre-wedding entrails and cried, “Chris- I forgot to tell you! You were a great son.” The last part came out kind of like a whimper. I can’t believe I actually said that, but it was the only thing that came to mind. His little chuckle and reassuring hug, told me he understood I was weird.
I am absolutely, positively, blessed with my five daughters-in-laws and my new son-in-law. I see how they love my sons and daughter and thank God for each of them. But I’ve gone through this strange behavior each time. I picture the Crocodile Hunter hiding in the bushes with his camera whispering, “Crikey! Look at this- we’ve come upon the female near the wedding. Look at the strange glaze in her eyes. We have to be very careful! She is prone to unpredictable bouts of obsessive compulsive habitat rearrangement.”
So what IS this? I’m not sure, I think it’s my Bon Voyage as they pull away from Safe Haven, while Flotsam and Jetsam (John and I) are left waving and wondering, “Did we teach them enough? Did we teach them anything?
Writing is my other escape pod. But I really have to go now-the wedding is in 3 days and I still have a bedspread to hand-quilt.