Do you remember when you were younger and looked forward to certain events with such anticipation you could barely breathe...first date, prom, getting your license, etc...? The sense of excitement and thrill each time you thought of what it was going to be like, what you were going to wear, who you were going to tell? You thought you could never feel better. Are you remembering that feeling? Great! Now picture the exact opposite and you have the pit in my stomach as we get closer to yet another wedding this weekend.Really, it has very little to do with the wedding and what that represents, as I really am happy for the soon to be married couple, and everything to do with the drama that has led up to the big event.
Over 40 years ago, 2 couples, maybe still on a contact high from the 1960's, decided to take on the world to ensure prosperity for all...and a bunch of other feel good campaign brochure kind of stuff, and decided to drag their children with them. Across the country we went...our own little version of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington...full of ideals and plans for social justice and all that jazz. Well, of course, reality set in and 2 incredibly nasty divorces, custody battles, bitter feelings and thousands of dollars of therapy later find us now on the eve of the last child's wedding.
As families, we vacationed together, in RV's, in old lighthouses, in motels all across this country, vowing to always remain family, forget just being friends. But, as in all divorces, sides had to be picked and battle lines were definitely drawn. And, as children, living at the whim of whoever had whom that weekend, didn't grow up as close as we had expected. And, considering my mother hated everything to do with the life that brought her to the East Coast, we certainly didn't spend too many summers with them at the Outer Banks ever again. But, because certain bonds can't be broken (or Miss Manners decrees it to be), we were all invited to each other's weddings. Although, why we didn't figure out after wedding one to just elope proves that while we have all become relatively successful and productive members of society, we obviously aren't all that bright.
For months now, my sister and I have been receiving emails from our mother regarding the big day...how important it is that we represent as a family unit. She even cut her summer on the East Coast short for the big occasion...and oh, how we've heard about that. How she will suffer through 2 weeks of miserable California heat because it is so very important for her to be a part of this wedding for Alan and Nina and to see his brother, Jeff, and his lovely wife, Laura. Granted, I found this funny...not just because people all over the world would love to live in California, but because Jeff's wife's name is Susan not Laura. Minor details, people.
We all knew why my mother was flying back early for this wedding and it had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to be there for the happy couple. Hello, they each have 8 attendants....who is even going to notice who is on the guest list?! No, she was flying back and making a huge production about all of us going together because she thought for sure my father was going to be in attendance. For the few weeks I thought the same thing, I lived in a constant state of martini induced fog because nothing sounded worse to me than a formal wedding with both of my parents. My wedding was painful enough and then I had the free flowing champagne fountain to make me happy.
The idea of my mother participating in a one sided competition for the spotlight was enough to make me run for the hills, before even factoring in the fact this was yet another wedding I was going to endure. I was beginning to understand why prescription medication was such a hot commodity. However, God, or my father, actually, saved the day by announcing he wasn't going to be able to make it to CA for the weekend as he was going to be out several times later in September. I thought I was going to faint from happiness. While my mother in a social setting is no day at the beach, it is at least tolerable, without adding my father to the mix. Although, you would have thought someone had shot my mother's dog when she found out. "What? Your father isn't coming?! Isn't that a slap in the face to the couple? Won't he be missed?" Again, Mom, missing the point on the whole wedding thing...stars of the show are the bride and groom...not some pseudo uncle who hasn't seen the happy couple in at least 5 years.
So, as I sip on this glass of wine, and inspect my closet for appropriate wedding attire this weekend, I at least am thankful that I will just be keeping my stupid sad feelings at bay, and not trying to juggle the needs of a neurotic, somewhat bitter, not over her divorce woman while also keeping my champagne glass full.
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