The Script Ended

French Wedding

I attended a French wedding for the first time this past weekend. I will post some amazing (I think) pictures later after they get down loaded onto my computer but in the mean time let me describe some of the peculiarities of a wedding in France in comparison to what I have experienced and witnessed in my homeland.

#1 The bride and groom were the proud parents of an adorable and very whiny 3 year old little girl. She was the fairy tale flower girl, complete with white dress, bouquet, LOTS of tears and not in the least bit interested in performing on demand. One of her shining moments was at the procession into the church; the Father of the Bride was left waiting at the entrance as the little darling suddenly refused to enter with her mommy (the bride). What followed was a semi discrete tug of war before her little paw was firmly in her mommy's grasp and she was dragged down the aisle with her tear streaked face covered by her free hand. Not the dream photo op that I am sure had been in mind.

#2 The solemn Catholic wedding vows were exchanged before the priest with said crying 3 year old in the arms of the groom. She was passed off briefly while the rings got hastily taken care of. The French priest was the picture of patience and understanding.

#3 Speaking of patience and understanding - this little village church was full of crying babies, wandering toddlers and other assorted distractions. Really nothing like the formal and solemn (and boring) U.S. Catholic weddings that I have seen. Bringing babies is highly discouraged at home because they spoil the intricately scripted moments of expensive American weddings. We had even extra entertainment provided by the family just in front of us. Identical TRIPLET 3 year old girls wrestled with their mommy and daddy over when they would be allowed to exit the confines of the pew and when they could take off their identical hand knit sweaters. What joy I felt in being the mother of 4 basically grown daughters!

#4 The moral of this story. God (or his spokesmen) had some kind of sense when the rules were made about the timing of babies.  AFTER the wedding and not before. If only to enjoy the cake and champagne in peace!

More later, it really was quite the weekend.

Birthdays and presents

Yesterday was my 2 youngest daughters' birthdays. They were born 2 years apart on the same day making April 13th a bit of a holiday in our family, at least in past years. That was part of the problem yesterday for me. So many things have changed, sometimes the sadness insists on being felt. It pokes it's way through my carefully constructed fabric of happiness, making a messy hole.

Paris was sunny and mild with a slight breeze blowing our hair as Jane and I set off for a birthday lunch. I wanted her to have a special day and do what would please her most. Her first request was to sleep in as long as she could. Done, it was almost 3 pm.

"You know mom, my birthday should really be a celebration for you not for me" she commented as we strolled towards the restaurant. "After all, I didn't really DO anything, you were the one who did all the work and accomplished the birthing of me, it really is YOUR day not mine."

Interesting thought actually. It made be think back on that day. Peter arriving at the hospital with my three babies to peer at the newest girl in the tribe. Anne, just 2 years old that day, climbed up onto the bed next to me and poked shyly at the bundle on my lap.

"Baby" she whispered.

Happy Birthday Annie, you have a baby sister as your present.

My curly topped 2 year old was now half way around the world from her mommy  celebrating HER birthday on a beach in Ecuador. My babies are scattered all over the world, their safe little family broken apart.

Thinking and remembering all this yesterday started me down a weepy path. Back then I was the special young mommy that all those little girls looked to for almost everything. And their Daddy thought that I was pretty special too. I don't really understand how that all changed.

See, this is how my stupid mind works sometimes. One thought, leads to another and I can get my mind all tangled up in a sticky sadness web.

My therapist told me that when I start down this road to just say "Stop!".

Okay, I stopped.

During the lunch Jane gave me a little gift when she told me that though her life has changed completely over the past 3 years and that has sometimes meant loss and confusion for her, whatever price she has paid, it has all been more than worth it to her. She would never trade the experiences that have been her's living in Paris for anything.

She was right, my wise baby girl. Her words were a gift for me on HER birthday.