Wedding Fever

It's the fantastic news we've been waiting for. Garrett and Kate are engaged! Yes, we all expected this and it is very welcome. I absolutely adore Kate and counted her as one of my "adopted" children nearly the instant I met her. I was not expecting was a real date to aspire to. A real ceremony and party to plan for. I was prepared for a long engagement. A very long engagement indeed. Just last week, while we waited for said impending proposal, my daughter said she'd heard Kate say she never cared to get married and when Garrett expressed concern over whether his proposal would be accepted, I could only say, "Then you offer the ring as a symbol of your love and the bond and commitment you share." I, however, did expect her to say, "yes."

In the drudgery of daily life it is invigorating to have an event to look forward to. Something to feel exaggerated zeal and zest for. My eldest daughter, Jackie, called just after 10pm last night to gush and puzzle about her wedding attire. As Best Man, the question now is, does she wear a gown or a tux? And she related to me ideas Kate has about her wedding dress. Suddenly I realized we were in full wedding swing. Rosie and I started sketching ideas for a dress with tuxedo qualities.

I am working up the bubbly here. Just creeping out from under the blanket of flu which has plagued my house since Christmas, and nursing a back injury (which still has unknown sources) happy is tough to muster. But muster I shall, dammit! Inquiring moms want to know details! I don't ask because I don't want to be a space invader. I avoid prying and manipulating. I'm just curious. Very curious. I've been a dead cat before you know. (How many lives do I have left?)

I wonder about what state the wedding may be held in, just how big it is getting and what role can and may I play?

So this morning to satiate the excitement Jackie incised in me, I find myself searching mother of the bride dresses (disappointingly, there's none labeled mother of the groom) and groom's family responsibilities.

Dread and fear and self loathing filled me. Breathe, I told myself. This is a time for convivial merriment! And no fun time to be at poverty level. I know my financially and medically challenged position. Still I expect to afford my family's wedding clothes, transportation if needed, a wedding gift and the rehearsal dinner. I feel exuberant, and even frolicsome at the mere thought of this union. Garrett and Kate are an excellent match. So why do I allow my joy to be tainted because of my inabilities and short comings? How can I not participate in my son's momentously mirthful occasion? How can I be such a broke-ass, ugly, embarrassing troll at my son's wedding?! Someone slap me! BREATHE!

I'm better now. Where's my Prozac? I've been anticipating this event for sometime, and now that it is reality, I am totally unprepared. I remind myself that no matter about me, the wedding will go on, and I can enjoy the ride or drown in my self induced anxiety. I think I'll choose to relish the thrill of this roller coaster. Mother of the Groom. I haven't played that role before. This should be exciting. The price of the ride is giving up my anxiety, insecurity and self absorption. And the prize is my son's happiness.