Of Weddings & New Seasons of Life

Our children don't always leave the nest in the same order they arrived. I was 3rd born but 1st to get married in my family; our 2nd born launched us into the world of in-laws this month.

The week before the week of the wedding, I suddenly & very unexpectedly was struck with inner ear infection. The room started swirling one way and the book I was trying to read was swirling the other way, while my stomach was thinking about hurling. I spent the entire week chilling on the sofa, too dizzy to do anything profitable, and downing a cocktail of meds to get me back on my feet ASAP. So NOT how I would have chosen to spend the week!

The week of the wedding was a whirlwind of preparation, starting with the making of 10 cheesecakes. It was an honor to make some for the reception, as well as mini ones for the honeymoon. I had a lot of good folks checking up on me and asking what they could do to help; I said they can pray that the cheesecakes turn out. If you doubt God cares about the little details of our lives... I have never had cheesecake after cheesecake come out of the oven looking so picture perfect.

It was exciting to watch the church be transformed from a plain gym into a beautiful reception venue. I always thought there would be camo incorporated into this son's wedding, but there was not a stitch of camo in sight. However, his hobbies of hunting & fishing were blended into the decor so well. (And so much more classy than camo anyway.) It was all so beautiful that I couldn't help but sigh happily at the end of the day.
The guys' boutonnieres were in shotgun shells. Perfect.

I love this picture -brothers working together. And it makes me very happy that my son did the napkins on the bridal table- not many grooms have the artistic touch to handle the "fluff" details. (Credit also goes to the bride who allowed him to handle it; not many brides trust men to handle the finer details.)

I love how the fishing rods formed the letter M in this display in the entrance.

Guest Book table

 Unity candle.  I love the symbolism. 

These days it's trendy to pour sand or paint or some such method that cuts the mothers out of the equation, but I still love, love the old fashioned method of honoring the life-givers.

 Delicious food.

Beautiful Bridal Table. Made from pallets by the groom & the bride's father.

 So we are not etiquette challenged; the silverware is laid that way on purpose on the bridal table. I suppose it's my fault. At home for everyday, I don't set a full place setting -only the pieces we'll need. I never really gave it much thought that this translates into forks only a lot of the time, and we placed it on the right. Over time JS developed a preference for having his fork on right, handy for diving in.

 Rehearsal 

 We felt so privileged to have the groomsmen stay in our home, and get ready here. I may be prejudice but we had such handsome groomsmen. 

Ok, here is the part where I start getting sappy. That's my son leaving home for the last time... Sniffle, sob!

Excerpt from the letter I wrote to my son for his wedding day: 

   You were my little buddy. You wanted to sit on the counter beside the mixer when I was baking so you could watch… You always were our extreme homebody; even as a tiny tot if we left you with a sitter very long you acted sick & droopy... You are the one who enjoyed doing puzzles with me and learned my secret of hiding a piece when the puzzle was nearly complete so you could be the one to slip the last piece into place… You are the reason I passed hunters safety education and drug my butt out of bed before daylight on freezing cold mornings to go hunting with you… You are the one I shuttled to art lessons and I’m the biggest fan of your talent… You are the one with a dry, goofy sense of humor- you had a way of saying things that made them hilarious –like the time you said “That was a shower” so seriously after you sneezed. (But you drew a fine line between laughing with or laughing at)… I never dreamed my slow-as-molasses kiddo that took 45 minutes to get dressed every single day would turn into a man that can be up & out the door in 5 minutes flat! …You are the only niteowl I got out of the whole lot. You are the one who comes in the bedroom to tell me about your day at 11pm because I’m probably still awake, but you know if I’m already asleep I won’t mind being woke up. I’m going to miss that so much! …It makes me happy that you take an interest in mechanics now… You have so many wonderful & unique talents and gifts that it excites me to watch you develop them and wonder where your life is headed.

 I don't have any of the professional pictures to share yet... I'm "dying" to see our family pictures, too.

Another excerpt from the letter I wrote him: 

   It’s been almost 21 years ago that you came into my life. I will never forget that day. You know your story- how you were born on the 2^nd anniversary of my brother’s death, how I fought against the idea of you being born on that particular day right up until you were making your way into the world. But it turned out to be such a blessing. You brought so much healing to my grief.

I was so blessed to be allowed to do a tribute to my late brother, Steve. JS was born exactly 2 years after he died and named after him.   

 I cannot express how much it meant to me that JS requested to use his car to leave the reception. In honor of his memory. And that my brother who owns the car now was willing to bring it all the way here for a 7 mile drive.

 My brother has been gone longer than we had him. And time dulls the grief; it's been awhile since I cried. So I really wasn't expecting to be affected like I was at this moment. Sad tears -the ache of losing a sibling way too soon came back. Happy tears- pride in the son who was honoring his heritage and respecting the memory of the uncle he never knew.
It was our daughter-in-law's idea to take this photo- my brothers & I with the car. There are no words for how special it is to me.

And another wedding letter excerpt:
     This is our first experience with marriage of one of our children. A new & joyous experience. I love weddings and I’m excited about yours. (It’s your moving out that I’m dreading. I’ve loved this stage of life and I’m sorry it’s over so quick.) I feel like I’ve got one shot at getting this mother-of-the-groom thing right, but I’m completely lacking in experience. And I so want to be a good mother-in-law. 

My prayer for you on your special day is simply that you keep your eyes on God and love Him first & foremost. He will lead you as you lead your new family. May God bless and keep the two of you for many years of happy loving! 

I love you and I’m so proud of you. 

Love, Mom 

If I could go back and do my newlywed stage over again, one thing I think I would do differently is be more gracious with my mother-in-law. The shoe fits different on the other foot, as the saying goes. This merging of 2 families who are polar opposites is not easy stuff. Neither is cutting apron strings. What seemed so silly to me 25 years ago - back when I wanted to huff "Seriously, you can let go now. I've got this" - now makes perfect sense.
Back then it felt like a challenge to my competence. Now I know it was not.

Being the young, naive bride, I thought the only thing that mattered was that the two of us could get along. But like many a bride before and after me, I learned the hard way that you marry a family, not an individual. The whole tribe is part of the package. Other people may drift in & out of your life, but family is always there. When you don't see eye-to-eye they are still there. You are forced to interact. And you have to figure out how to make it work. (Or waste a lot of time feeling miffed.)
As a newlywed, I moved several hours away from my mother, so I needed his mom. Back in the day when there was no such thing as texting and long-distance phone calls were expensive. When I needed advice on how to cook or can something. Or needed to borrow a cup of sugar. But when you are a newlywed living in the same community as your mom, MIL becomes the unnecessary part in the equation. And I'm left trying to find the perfect balance of showing interest without invading privacy. Learning how to relinquish control gracefully. With 0 experience and no manual to read, it gives me flashbacks of the dreaded Chemistry class where the formulas made no sense. I fear my first report card will sport a big red F, but maybe I can find a tutor to help me bring my grades up.
I never thought I'd be a mom who has trouble cutting the apron strings, but it's harder than I thought. The other day an older, wiser woman of God who has been down this path multiple times expressed her opinion that it's harder with boys. We are used to doing things for them and the shears doesn't give a resounding 'snip' to the apron strings the second a man of the cloth says "I pronounce you..." Give yourself some time, she said. Did she hear the twang as my shoulders that were taut as telephone lines sagged with relief?!
I'm trying. I'll keep trying. My apologies to the DIL who has to be the guinea pig while I learn. 

“Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ” ― Elizabeth Stone