It is Friday afternoon, November 4. I am sitting at the desk in the Courtyard Marriott in Harrisonburg, sipping a diet Mountain Dew I shouldn’t have, on top of the two cups of coffee I had this morning. The place cards I promised Sarah are lined up on the desk in shades of orange and gold, ready to go. That was my big job for today.
Well, that and visiting the caterer for the reception, to make sure it’s okay. We also went to Target with Sarah and Jeff. It’s all done; they’re with Suzanne, collecting bridesmaids and groomsmen, getting everyone ready for the rehearsal at 5:00.
I’m not gonna lie, I feel weird. A James Taylor song on Pandora brought me to tears. I did not expect this. We love Jeff. We cannot be more happy that Sarah’s marrying him tomorrow. But this afternoon, I am prone to cry at the drop of a chord, and I am not a “crier.”
I have no idea what this means. It could just be a “mom” thing. My devotional reading today was Psalm 131, in which the psalmist compares his soul to a weaned child with its mother. That was tough, too. Wasn’t that just a year or two ago? No. It’s been a honking quarter of a century, that’s how long it’s been.
No point in getting maudlin here and now. Children grow up; it’s what we WANT them to do. I am vastly relieved that Sarah is not still walking around with play dough squished into her hair. I’m glad she’s out of her “I will only eat strawberries and yogurt” phase. I don’t really want to try and wrestle her into tights and Mary Janes anymore.
No, those are all gonna be Jeff’s jobs. Heehee. I’m recovering. Just thinking about what it took to get us all to this moment, all the joy and glee, all the tears, all the late nights, a million conversations, the immense pride we have had, watching her grow up – all these things make my heart fill up, and possibly spill out my eyelids. Our precious daughter is going to be Jeff’s precious wife. Sally gets a sister, and Chip and Suz get a brother.
We get a new son. And I had better shut up and go get some Kleenex.