In 1977 when my first child, a son we named Joshua, was in my arms, only three days old, I marveled at his perfection and was filled with the wonder a first time Mother will understand. In the span of a moment, I saw his conception, birth, childhood, teen years, graduation from high school and college and marriage. The tears on my face brought me back to reality and I realized all those events were somewhere down the road and right now, I was holding a small bundle of possibility.
Somewhere down the road, I was blessed with two more small bundles of possibility and today, in 2009, they each have their own bundles of possibility and somewhere down the road has happened for all three of my children who are now parents themselves and are dreaming their own dreams for their children and travelling their own road.
A marriage to a wonderful person who loved them dearly and a beautiful ceremony to commemorate that love was something I had dreamed for each of my children. That dream did come true and all three experienced a beautiful wedding, in a way that was perfect for them and a delight to me.
Joshua was married in a small, intimate wedding at a “Victorian Garden” in Denver, Colorado on a beautiful Spring day, April 30, 2000. A a violinist in a long, flowered gown played aoft, sweet music in the background as the guests were seated. A quote by one of my favorite poets, Kahlil Gibran” was spoken as a part of the service. The verse was about love and it was their choice because neither knew how much I enjoy Gibran so I was touched that they had found him on their own. For the Mother/Son dance at the reception, Joshua had chosen the Stevie Nicks song “Landslide” for the two of us to dance together and we both cried tears of joy and sadness at the same time and the song will always be meaningful to me. Bubbles were blowing from a machine above the dance floor and the softly falling bubbles gave the room a feeling of joy and lightheartedness. I’ve always thought bubbles contained wishes and hearts desires so the bubbles were perfect for the occasion. The event was a lovely coming together of two hearts and two families.
Jessica, born two years after Joshua, was married at a place called "Vecoma at The Yellow River" near Stone Mountain, Georgia on November 1, 1997. "Vecoma at The Yellow River" is marketed as Atlanta's most charming and distinctive special events facility that is set upon a magnificently wooded forest and is the perfect location for weddings. The plan was to have the ceremony, at dusk, with Jessica and Arlo standing at River's edge, under the trees which were wearing their fall splendor of orange, yellow and red. However, just before the ceremony began, it started to rain. So, we moved the wedding inside the lovely, riverside lodge with 14-foot-high ceilings, a huge stone fireplace, and french doors leading to a HUGE deck overlooking the Yellow River where they would have been married. Instead, they were married in front of a roaring fire which had been made to take the chill off the wet Spring evening. They were married under an arch which had been quickly set up in front of the fireplace. Huge candelabra filled with white candles were placed on either end of the fireplace. The wedding, like my Jessica, was more traditional and perfect for her and her new husband. Her Dad and I cried tears of joy and sadness as she walked down the aisle and took her place beside Arlo. The event was another lovely coming together of two hearts and two families.
Jenny, my third child born in 1988, was married to Elliot on April 18, 2009. The ceremony took place in a meadow, reached by crossing a small foot bridge over a bubbling brook. The vows were spoken under an arbor her husband had built of saplings he’d cut for the occasion as birds chirped and the sound of the brook played it's own song for the occasion. We had hung white tulle from the arbor to dress it up a bit but otherwise left it rustic. The meadow was at “the Briar Patch” in the North Georgia mountains near Blue Ridge which is property owned by her husband’s family and the ashes of his grandfather, whom he had loved dearly, had been scattered in that meadow so his spirit was strong there for Elliot. It was another of those perfect early Spring days with flowers bursting abloom and the trees putting on their new raiment of green and everything smelled fresh and new as we celebrated their love and beginning of life together.
Three of life’s dreams come true, not only for me but for my children. The road I was on in 1977 veered right and I was along for the ride. What a journey it has been!
I didn’t foresee on that day in 1977 when I was first marveling at my newborn son that by the time of the first wedding in 1997, their Dad and I would be divorced but neither of us remarried. In addition to the happy memories of each wedding, I also carry the memory of a rather big fight that got physical the day before Josh’s wedding between his Dad and myself that ruined what was otherwise a perfect day. On the day of Jessica’s wedding, my grandmother died and that was the first time her Dad had brought his new girlfriend to a “family” event and I felt shamed and embarrassed at the same time. Jenny’s wedding was memorable for another reason because I had to see someone that day (her biological Father, but that’s another story because he was not her “Father” but more of a “donor” although I had loved him dearly) that I could have lived the remainder of my life without seeing but there he was, right in front of my face, as he should have been. I was happy for Jen's sake that he was there and maybe for his, too. Not wanting to see him and not loving him are two separate issues and perhaps another story for somewhere down the road.
Life’s funny, isn’t it? For every bit of joy and happiness allotted to me comes a little bit of darkness. I have a choice to focus on that darkness or remember the joy and beauty of those moments. I haven’t forgotten the moments of darkness but they were not the DEFINING moments of the day. They were only moments, along with all the others that were included in that day. I can’t forget them because they happened but I can choose to tuck them away in a dark corner and just let them sit there with the other dark memories. Their corner is a part of the room but such a smaller part of a large, well-lit room.
My dream for my children came true as each of them have found peace, happiness, joy and a good friend to walk beside them as their mate. My three little bundles of possibility, hearts of my heart. What an adventure being their Mother has been and one I would not have any way other than the way it has been, even with the little dark corner filled with the sadnesses and pain, betrayals and missteps. It’s MY dark corner and I own it. Sometimes, I think of my life as a house and sometimes I think of my life as a journey, one long road trip.
The beginning of journey occurs when we draw our first breath and there’s not much we can control about our journey in the beginning but perhaps we have that set up before we make our entrance onto the road. Somewhere down that road, we learn about choices and consequences and it is at that point in time, we begin to chart our own coarse. Looking back, with a wizened eye, I can see each side road and what brought me to it and I can see that each side road had a beauty of it’s own. I went through many scary forests and deep rivers,mucky swamps and barren deserts to get to the place I am today. I look forward to the reminder of the journey which could end in minutes, hours, days or years and I’m ready for anything.
There were times along the journey when I felt like pulling off the road, closing up the house and calling it a day. I went through great depressions but I always made myself get back on the road even if I had to claw my way back to it. I made myself remember that it IS a great day to be alive in America and tomorrow IS a new day. Not just were my beautiful children bundles of possibilities but EVERY DAY is a new bundle of possibility. If I gave my children nothing else for their own journey, I pray that HOPE is the gift I gave to them and the gift they pass along to their own children. Faith, hope and charity are fuel for the journey.
EVERY DAY is a bundle of possibility and if life throws little bits of darkness our way, so be it. Somewhere down the road, we can look back in that corner, remembering the pain but not wallowing in it and if we choose, we can remember all of the light of that day, too. Surely the light is stronger than the darkness. We realize this even moreso somewhere down the road.
Daily, I remind myself to keep the focus on the positive and live the life you dream and dream the life you want to live.
I think I wrote this for myself because I have been forgetting to dream and my car has stalled and the drape fell over the window of my room making it all dark. Now, it's time to jumpstart the car, pull back the curtain and get back on the road to see what’s up ahead. Looks like sunshine with a slight chance of rain!
Namaste
