2019. I knew it would be non-stop. And it has been.
The busyness began in April -- a trip to Watertown, New York.
My son and daughter-in-law were living there -- WERE -- temporarily. She's a travel nurse at the present time, while he works towards finishing his master's in archaeology at Binghamton University. He finally found his passion. Let the man dig!
He just returned from his second field dig in South Africa. Somehow Google knows I now have an interest in archaeology. I get articles now on my news feeds of all the latest discoveries in the field. No secrets anymore, I guess. We can run but we can't hide or something like that.
Fast-forward to the present -- living in an apartment complex.
Suspended somewhere between then -- a big house in suburbia -- to a third-floor apartment that I've worked at making "homey" while we're here. And we'll be here until -- well, that's undetermined. So. Yeah. Living suspended.
But for now, I suppose this is home-away-from-home.
The lake house is now our HOME.
It's a cool little place. Quiet. Beautiful view of a country hillside behind the complex. Awesome sunset views. Lovely, intoxicating sunsets.
Oh, and the third floor is great for privacy. A pain for early-morning dog walks -- yep
or hauling in groceries..-- DEFINITELY.
And nope, no elevator!
Yeah, well, I think of it as just another chance to exercise.
God knows I need it.
And besides. I'm pretty sure third floor is too high for mosquitoes.
Mosquitoes are afraid of heights. Right?
"So it seems," she grinned with delight.
It's all good.
My tiny little balcony is cozy and candle-lit, bordered with plants and flowers and comfy things. I must have access to the outdoors. The little balcony is an extension of my living space.
I listen to the quiet, punctuated with tenants coming and going, my Billie Holiday playing softly in the background. I wonder if they've figured out that I'm an old soul...a jazz lover. People seem friendly here. It's a colony of dog-lovers. Chessie seems to have adapted just fine.
Me? I'm still waiting to "settle in" to this chapter.
But how does one settle into a state of suspension?
.... no one way to describe how it feels. I thought I'd be okay with this. Was actually proud that I was handling his leaving for college pretty well. All is good. Just another chapter.
And then it hits me today, the day before he leaves for college. Tomorrow is move-in day. And Momma Bird says, "But wait...I need to be sure he's ready...because...what if he isn't ready, God?" And after wiping the tears, she whispers one more prayer, "Father, if he isn't quite ready, will You help him...fly? Can you please be the wind beneath his wings, Father, when I'm no longer there to watch over him....Let him fly, let him soar!"
It's been exactly one week today...and I'm still smiling broadly inside as I reflect back onto that late afternoon and evening when I witnessed their vows and watched them dance the first dance on the shiny wooden floor, as the crowd smiled, and cheered, some with tears ... myself included...and as I listen even now to their song, I struggle to fight back the happy tears...
(Their first dance...incredibly moving!)
We left town
for the wedding on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, taking two cars. My husband drove my youngest son’s car,
stopping to get my oldest son (best man) on the way, taking along his mother to
deposit her at Aunt Karen’s, who lives an hour and a half away from the
wedding. She would stay with Aunt Karen
until wedding day, and then the two of them would drive to the wedding
together, spend the night with us at the Marriott, and the next morning my
husband would drive his mom back home and Aunt Karen would drive back to her
home. A good solid plan, avoiding having
to babysit “Grandma” while we all busied about the days leading up to the
wedding. And so he got a headstart that
morning, while I waited for my youngest son to hurry up and get his act together
so that we TOO could get on the road.
As it turns
out, when we finally got ready to leave, we discovered that my battery was
dead. The only car left in the driveway
to jump start the dead battery was my husband’s BMW, and we quickly learned that
BMW hides their batteries. My son had
never jump started a car anyway, and not being able to locate the battery in
the BMW made it twice as stressful.
After texting back and forth fifty times with my husband, he ended up
turning around and driving back home to get my battery started with the car he
was driving, the more user-friendly Toyota.
They keep their batteries in plain view, bless their hearts.
We finally
get on the road two hours later than we had planned. We had an appointment at the tux rental place
for all the guys to have their final fitting, which we were not gonna make
timely. A call was made and they agreed
to move the appointment forward a couple of hours. When we arrived, we hurried in to get their
fittings underway. As she was measuring
Gavin’s pants leg (who’s been in a major bulking phase since his spring
competition), she made a comment about how large his thighs were, and then
said, “Are you a body builder?” After a
slight hesitation, he replied simply, “Sometimes.” I giggled out loud. Add that to my wedding week quote book!
Leaving
there, my sons were starving, Z and C having not eaten since that morning.Gavin informed us that Elisabeth's dad had
invited us to join their family at the local Moose Lodge for Wing Night.DEAL. I love good wings, and I was sure if they met
HIS approval – notoriously anal about most things, and particularly food – that
they’d be delicious.And they were.And their homemade ranch dressing was to die
for.I tried a yummy new seasonal beer! We spent a memorable fun-filled evening with the two families, the Present Day Brady
Bunch, chowing on wings, beer, and for good measure, macaroni and cheese bites (C’s choice),
laughing, and telling stories.The guys
ended up going to the next room to shoot pool for an hour or so while the women
hung out and continued laughing and bonding and romanticizing of the days
ahead.We headed back to our motel and
enjoyed a good night’s rest after a long day on the road.Our motel rooms
were very nice, accommodating, and the beds were incredibly comfortable.This would be our home for the next few days.
The next
morning Lis and I stopped by a local Italian marketplace to buy samples of
their cheese to put in the welcome bags I had made for our guests arriving from
Georgia and North Carolina. Just walking
into that place, Delallo’s , I was intoxicated by the yummy smells of baked
bread, cheese, sauces, soups, dips, cakes, cookies – the place was bustling
with people and employees. I wanted one
of everything!
Up next on
our agenda was a 1:00 appointment at Bell’s Banquets where the reception would
be held. We had two hours to get that
place decorated. Both families were
there to help, as well as cousins, best friends, and a few aunts and uncles. Busy as bees, flying around hanging lights,
setting and embellishing centerpieces, hanging signs and garland, photos, gift
table décor, all of it. It was
beautiful, just as they'd wanted -- RUSTIC ELEGANCE --and I couldn’t wait to see all the candles lit, hear the music
playing, and get on with the celebration! This place was gorgeous. The PERFECT setting for romance.
The sign I made them...she'd pinned this sign on Pinterest,
and I surprised her with it when we began decorating.
Their wedding theme: The Love Chapter.
The escort card table... My husband sawed grooves in logs and I embellished them with moss, acorns and hemlock pine cones.
Lis practiced her Father/Bride dance with her dad on the dance floor -- they're both fabulous dancers -- and
Gavin and I practiced our Mom/Groom dance in the parking lot as we were
leaving, giggling every step!
Back to the
motel, freshen up, then head to the church.Thank God for GPS.I had no idea
where any of these places were, but I had street addresses, and that got us there
without a hitch.My youngest son C was
chauffeuring his older brother Z, and they made it their mission to arrive
fashionably late to everything all week – which added to my stress, but it
always seemed to work out.(Are they
lost?Did they have a wreck? Are you sure they’re coming?Did anyone tell them where we are?Why can’t they be on time just once!) Worry,
worry, worry, Mother of the Groom.It
never did any good.
Rehearsal
went well -- once the groomsmen finally arrived! And then we headed to The Fire Pit, a local
favorite restaurant for the rehearsal dinner.
It was a long and leisurely dinner, great food, lots of family and
friends, and more laughing, bonding, celebrating. I had brisket tacos – one of their
specialties and it’s what I was in the mood for – and they were
delicious! Afterwards, Uncle Ray – a
HOOT! – invited Gavin & Lis and my husband and I over to his home – uh,
rather to his man cave, for drinks and chill time. Now THAT man knows how to build a man cave! A garage apartment style, built over his detached garage, beautifully paneled, full bar, huge TV on the wall, video games, overstuffed sofas and fashionable bar stools -- the WORKS. Unreal. And of course ever since, Uncle Ray seems to have a growing list of friends who enjoy hanging out at his place...any wonder??? So yes, we had a blast. Uncle Ray is hysterical! He even offered to chauffeur Grandma and Aunt Karen from the wedding to the reception since they're not GPS saavy. What a guy! Everyone needs an Uncle Ray.
The next day
was Thanksgiving.Gavin and Lis would
not see each other at all on this day before the wedding.So we took our three sons to see Creed at the
matinee showing, then later met our friends from Georgia at the motel afterward, once their flight had arrived. We hung out, catching up and reminiscing in the lobby before heading off to celebrate
Thanksgiving Dinner at Cracker Barrel, one of the handful of restaurants open
on Thanksgiving Day.It was the first
Thanksgiving I’d ever spent away from home in my life.But it was fantastic, spending it with long-time friends we’d
not seen since summer at Marco Island. It
was a special and memorable opportunity to give thanks – for love and friendships and family and
blessings.We stayed up late that night
to greet our other "Marco friends" who were driving up from North Carolina, sharing a glass of
wine and relaxing with them in the plush, relaxing lobby at the Marriott.I was so blessed that our friends would
sacrifice their holiday weekends to celebrate with us so far away!
The next
morning I met all the women at her salon, where they served up mimosas and
breakfast treats while having our hair done in varying degrees of up-do’s. Lots of giggling, wisecracks and girly banter – what a blast. Even her Grandmother Sally was there; she
chose to have a beautiful wide band at the base of her up-do, embellished with
bling. So classy! She too was a hoot!
Later in
early afternoon, Gavin joined us to get ready with his dad and brothers at our
motel, and then we made our way to the church.
As usual, his brothers were late leaving the motel and arrived at the
church much later than the three of us did.
It didn’t bother Gavin in the least.
He was calm and collected and assured.
This was the day he’d been waiting for, and he was ready, eyes wide
open. Life is good. Love is good.
God is good. And me? I had never been so proud, so happy. My son was marrying the love of his
life…! Suppressing the wave of emotion
inside me, I was determined to hold it together.
And the rest of the story is told through song and photos and laughter and tears and cheers...
The music and dancing was incredible.
Everyone was having such a great time!
Even my oldest son joined the dancing -- I couldn't believe it!
This was epic.
The next to the last song of the night... (What awesome DJ's ... they were able to dig this song out just for me, special request!)
And all three sons totally rocked this Irish jig!
Everyone kept asking me,
"How did they learn to Irish dance?"
Who knew!
I can't stop reliving the memories
over and over in my mind.
He made the right choice.
Her beautiful spirit matches her beautiful countenance,
with a heart the size of Texas.
One of the most selfless people I've ever met in my life.
I love her family.
She's going to make the perfect daughter-in-law.
So only a few days away from the big day. Time has flown by, as it always does -- it won't wait around. It's why setting a goal and putting a date with it is so crucial.
Having applied countless lessons of my past to setting my goal for losing 15 pounds by the wedding day -- my middle son to his college sweetheart -- I realize that my focus wasn't always what it needed to be. But I've made progress, and it's best that I now focus on that, the positive -- decent progress -- rather than focusing on my having fallen short of my goal.
I began the Monday after the Fourth of July weekend, hoping to lose 15 pounds by wedding day. I've lost 9.5. So am I going to stew over the 4.5 pounds I DIDN'T lose? Frankly, I am a little pissed at myself for having lost focus several times over the past several weeks and giving in to emotional eating. Had I stayed with it, focused more, eye on the target, PUSHED, I would have made it. But it is what it is, and I'm just glad that I've come this far. The fact that I have more pounds to lose (for my own personal goal, regardless of an event) is not going to keep me from enjoying every minute of this grand celebration of a young couple's new life together. Let's have us a wedding! My son is getting married! I still can't believe it's really happening.
So I tried on my dress yesterday -- I returned the charcoal gray one, having found a taupe one I liked better, lacy with little blingy sequins all throughout -- and decided that it's a good thing I DIDN'T totally blow my goal. This dress is certainly not forgiving. It clings and fits like a glove. It shows every little curve. YIKES. But I'm happy with my selection, satisfied that I've given at least 75% effort. It's all good. And so here's a toast ......to everlasting love......and I'm gonna sing and dance and laugh and cry and celebrate that my son is going to marry the love of his life.
Wasn't it just yesterday that my little guy was waddling along the shore,
picking up sea shells and sand
and thrusting them into the ocean,
clapping and laughing joyfully
with that deep belly laugh he had
... I hear him
... I see him
... How can this be?
The next order of business: Trying very hard not to cry during the Mother of the Groom dance. It's a sappy one. I would have preferred upbeat, but for whatever reason he doesn't seem to have much rhythm (we practiced a few months ago -- tragic!), so we're going with a slow one. Heather Headley's "Wish for You."
Focus, T. I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry ...
