"I'm engaged!"
This is the conversation I wish I could have with you. I call you to tell you the good news, and before I even say it you can read the news from my tone. We laugh, and cry (because of course we would cry), and we get really ridiculously excited. You tell me how much you like him, and how happy you are for me, and we plan for you to come out to Oakland soon so we can scheme together, go wedding dress shopping, talk about other girly things.
I did get engaged*, and I'm really, really happy. But in the happiness there's this sliver of sadness that seems to balloon when I least expect it. This realization that I can't have this conversation with you, I didn't have this conversation with you, I can never have this conversation with you. You won't be there to help with invitations or work on centerpieces. You won't be there to take in the hem of my dress or tell me how beautiful I look. You won't be there to dance with him on our wedding day, after he dances with his mom. You won't be there for all the firsts, you won't be there for our kids, you won't be there when I'm scared or angry or confused or uncertain and I just need my mommy to make it better.
You'd love the ring, Mom. It's vintage, just like I wanted, and it's simple, just like me. It fits perfectly, and it's just so beautiful. It's a little weird to wear - you know I don't wear rings very much - but I'm getting used to it. I can't keep myself from staring at it - it's so glittery!
I wish you were here, to tell me what it's like. To tell me what marriage, what being a partner is really like. I wish you were here to help me transition from being single to being not single. It's a big transition! Were you ever scared?
I wish you could meet him, Mom. He's a wonderful man. So kind, so loving, so generous, so loyal. And funny. You'd really dig his sense of humor. And he'd really dig your baking skills.
I miss you, Mom. I wish, more than anything right now, that you were here. I never imagined being here without you. I know I'll get through it, but it really hurts right now. I love you, I miss you, I love you, I miss you....
I wish.
*And yes, my fiancé (heehee, fiancé!) knows about this post, and knows about this sadness, and he sits with me in it. He's pretty amazing that way.
I was almost a little puzzled by your footnote, because I thought, of course Vinod is being loving and supportive and understands how there is still an element of sadness in this very happy season! I think that's probably the first thing I came to learn about him: he knew how to just sit and share in the ebbs and flows of grief. That does make him a pretty special guy - and the right guy for you :)
ReplyDeleteTears. For my granddaughter, whose mom (my daughter) has just died. She is 6 years old, and has a brother, too, who is 4. I wish with all my heart that she will know your joy some day, too. Thanks for posting!
ReplyDeleteCarole, I'm so sorry to hear about the death of your daughter. I'll be praying for you, and for your grandchildren. My heart goes out to you, and to them.
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