My daughter, the Beautiful Miss Lauren many of you know, or know of through past blog posts, is getting married next weekend. Her fiancé, Jamie, is a wonderful young man who clearly loves my daughter deeply. I'm a happy mom, and so, so happy for the two of them.
I keep having this whacko dream that I'm in my underwear, wading through a crowd of wedding guests, unable to get past the endless stream of people who want to stop me, ask questions, distract me, delay me. It's ten minutes till wedding o'clock, and I just... can't... seem... to... find... my... dress...
Of course I'm not that much of a mess in real life. I know exactly where my dress is. And my shoes, even! Today is mani-pedi day, and I have all of this afternoon and evening and tomorrow to pack. I could pack our whole apartment in that amount of time, so I'm not worried about running out of time. It's just time to get to it.
The dream is not about the wedding so much as it is about the behind the scenes family stuff that's diverting my attention. My sisters and I are not really far enough along in processing the loss of our father in June to be dealing efficiently with the sale of his house. I specifically asked for enough time to get through the wedding before we put it on the market. We signed on with a realtor, who agreed to my timeline...
And then... a few days ago, smack in the middle of wedding week preparations, he brought us an off-market offer. He just happened to know somebody who just happened to have clients who just happened to be looking for a house in our neighborhood. Hmmm... really? He didn't know this was in the pipes before we agreed to give him a big fat percentage, regardless of the amount of work he actually put into finding a buyer? Giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, the timing sucks and I'm really annoyed at being mentally dragged away from my main focus of the moment - my daughter.
The offer was low and shouldn't even have beed handed to us. I considered ignoring it completely, but decided to play along and sign a counter offer that's exactly what we want. I don't expect to get it this time, but I do expect to get it. And now I expect to be left the hell alone until after Labor Day Weekend. In fact, I insist on that part.
As MOTB, my most important job is to protect the magic bubble of happiness that surrounds the bride now. I feel more like a fierce Mother Bear than I ever did when my kids were little. Somehow, I feel even more protective of my adult daughter than I ever needed to when she was young. She's always been completely capable of handling her life, and she is now too.
Still, there's some ancient juju wrapped up in making the transition from daughter to wife. Still a daughter, but now a wife first. It's mostly unspoken, but it's felt. And it's important to me to do my best to send her off with open arms and a full and happy heart. Even though she'll still be geographically close by, energetically, a shift is happening.
I'm reared up and determined not to let any of the family haggling come anywhere near my girl. That means no talk of house selling, at least not in earshot of me or Lauren, all wedding weekend long. My personal happy bubble has to remain intact if I'm going to keep watch over Lauren's. Mother Bear is a little cranky right now, and willing to take a swipe at anyone who tries to divert my attention. I don't care about selling a house right now. Not today. Not for the whole damn next week. Grrr. Got it?
And now, I'm off to the business of being happy.
I'm coming out of the fog of that weird dream as I write this, and writing my own ending to it... I'm striding through the crowd, still in my underwear, elegant arm now outstretched and gently but firmly waving away all questions, and anyone who's trying to detain me. My beautiful dress waits for me behind a secret door to a quiet, pretty room, filled with flowers. I slip it on, step into my shoes, fluff my hair, glance at my perfect manicure, touch up my lipstick, and smiling, I drift out to take my place in the front row. I turn to watch my daughter walking down the aisle, and yes, there it is, she's smiling too, and seems to be floating, as if in a bubble, just an inch or so off the ground.
This is where my focus is. This is where I'm staying.