From the Bride’s Father’s Notebook – Day 9

Monday,  December 28

Why haven’t I been writing my whole life?  What a way to express so many feelings: joy, anger, surprise, hurt, happiness, and today, angst, something we’re all feeling right about now.  No reason in particular that anyone can put a finger on is making us feel this way, and yet everything is driving us a little crazy.  Things little and big irritate:  schedules, plans, food and clothes, cars, cakes and parties and, well, you get the picture.  The wedding, happening tomorrow, isn’t a bad thing, but somehow it’s the source of all this weirdness, these new things to do and feel, that’s making us all a little antsy.

I went back to the Irish pub today, this time with my sons.  I’m so grateful my relationship with each of them survived their teen years.  Listen: I’m not just talking about them; I’m afraid I was the one often hard to live with during that epoch.  Then at some point, maybe a gradual series of points, our relationship transitioned from being parent/child to adult/adult.  I cherish that.

Though it’s not a central or even necessary part of a relationship between adults, sharing a beer with the two boys, now men I helped make and raise, is a fun, special event.  The memory of me, as father, helping raise these two is still fresh.  I tried to enforce rules and regulations in our household, tried to guide our children to make good choices which are often not the fun choices.  As nice or benevolent as a parent is, he or she can’t escape needing to be the heavy, the cop, the kill-joy.  That’s part of what makes sharing a beer with my adult sons nice.  We’re all all of age now.  My child raising is essentially over.  If they want advice or guidance, they call and ask.  Hoisting those frothy cold ones, eating french fries and sliders, we shared a mutual esteem and trust, and a certain, unique comfort level.  We talked topics big and little, important and trivial.  We laughed.  We enjoyed being together in that place, away from the wedding hubbub for a few cozy minutes.

A little later, I went with my wife and the bride-to-be (tomorrow’s the day!) to order a cake for the reception.  The wedding itself will only be attended by eleven people: the eight of us (me, my wife, our three children and their three significant others), and the groom’s mother, father, and grandmother.  Since many more want to celebrate with us, we’ve planned two receptions after the actual event.  One will be here in our apartment the day after the wedding for East Coast friends and relatives, and the other, in Indianapolis in April, for Midwestern and points west relatives and friends.  After tasting yummy samples of cakey richness at a local bakery/cafe and ordering the cake, we talked marriage and relationship over coffee and a little more cake.  Whether beer in a pub or coffee and cake in a cafe, food is playing a big role in the whole to-do, and keeps us fueled, and, yes, a bit medicated.  I’m grateful for its balm.

That evening was the rehearsal dinner.  There’s no rehearsal needed for a wedding with 11 attendees including the bride and groom, but it is a tradition for the groom’s family to host a meal the night before.  Our almost son-in-law’s parents are truly welcoming, hospitable people who had traveled from overseas to be here, but had no easy way to readily invite people over for a meal, or a snack or just to visit.  The rehearsal dinner gave them the chance to host the group.  I was glad they had and wanted the opportunity to do that, and was also glad my only jobs were driving the group to the restaurant and engaging in sterling, dinnertime banter, two tasks I could handle.

With all the plans and guests and events and meals to prepare and about a thousand last-minute things to do, you’d expect that a father and mother of the bride’s own relationship, in even the best of marriages, could get a bit buffeted.  We’re used to a lot of daily conversation, a lot of interaction which is hardly possible these days.  To be sure, we’ve felt the lack of interaction with all these wedding related activities, but we’re still doing okay.    Our marriage is holding up just fine and will be ready to launch our little girl into her own.

About literarylee

I sling words for a living. Always have, always will. Some have been interesting and fun; most not. These days, I write the fun words early in the morning before the adults are up and make me eat my Cream of Wheat.
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