Just to set the scene: This morning I’m coming to you in pajamas and high heels.
I’m told this is important preparation for one of life’s biggies. Wear the heels around the house so they don’t shred your tootsies when it counts: when you’re Motherofthegroom, standing for hours, with the weight of the world—and your body, your soul, your heavy emotions—held atop scantly more than a match stick, four inches high and an eighth of an inch around.
The Boy is getting married in a week. You remember when he graduated from college four years ago. In addition to getting a degree there, he found a mate for life. Next Saturday, they’re making it official at a small ceremony near their home in North Carolina.
They (whoever they are) say that Motherofthegroom has three jobs: smile, keep her mouth shut and wear beige. The bride and groom, having tended to nearly all preparations themselves, have made my job a piece of cake. Admittedly, Fatherofthegroom and I made a wave or two when we wanted to invite the universe, but the young people were set on keeping it intimate. And so it shall be.
As these stilettos—beige, by the way—endure their breaking in, they spur contemplation.
In these shoes, I’ll stand and watch The Boy take another big step.
In these shoes, I’ll become a mother-in-law, hopefully the best one this dear, beautiful bride deserves.
In these shoes, I’ll vow silently to cut the titanium apron strings and hope for the courage and guidance the severing demands.
In these shoes, I’ll pray silently for grandchildren and for the inspiration to be the best Nanny in generations.
In these shoes, I’ll thank God for my own marriage, for the best son in the world and the choice he made in a wife, for family members overcoming illness and disability to be there and for a whole new family to love, honor and annoy.
In these shoes, I’ll hand Fatherofthegroom Kleenex. Lots of Kleenex.
In these shoes, I’ll think of all those, alive and not, who aren’t there for the occasion but who should know how special they are to us. I’ll take pictures. Lots of pictures.
Okay, shoes. Let’s do this.
Word Nymph 
Monica, This is wonderful. Thanks for writing this. I’m right there with Marty – not sure how I’ll make it through Andrew and Claire’s weddings, if that ever takes place (and I’m not rushing them, mind you). I’ll remind Candice that she’s in charge of bringing the Kleenex. All the best, David
Monica,
We are so happy for you and Marty! If you have a chance to stop by while in NC, you can pick up your Dills of the Haw! We love you guys and wish all the best for Joe and Amber.
Lou & Butch
So happy for you! You and Marty, and Joe and Amber will be in my prayers. Is it Sept. 14? XXX Day
September 13. That’s two of your yoots getting married on the same weekend.
Who else????
Beautiful. Made me cry and gave me goosebumps. Great shoes. They AND you can handle it all. (As we discussed, bring a pair of flats, in case the shoes can’t take the pressure!) Best of luck to all of you. Enjoy.
Congrats! You will wear the shoes with grace and charm, for sure. Best wishes to The Boy and his lovely bride. I do remember when…
This Nanny’s weeping.
Monica, I loved this blog and uncle Earle and I are so honored to see Joe and Amber get married. We remember clearly your wedding day. There will be lots of happy tears flowing. Oops, they have started all ready.
Oh, Monica, tears streamed down as I read (and re-read) your beautiful words above. I pulled up your Empty Nest Essay and re-read “Essence of a Growing Boy” – more tears stream. We’ve been blessed to watch your Boy grow into a very fine young man, who is passionate about his career and has the intelligence to recognize when a lovely young lady is “the woman of his dreams”. He obviously learned well from his parents. Your titanium apron strings will always be tethered – no one can break that bond. We’ll just sew on two more strings for Amber!
I know you and Marty will cherish and absorb every second of next weekend. It is as much a tribute to the two of you. For over 20 years I’ve known that you may wear a fashionable size 6 or 7 stiletto, but in LIFE’S SHOES, not many could fill the shoe size you wear. This year, I think you’ve been lacing up some serious Army Boots – and somehow made them look functional, stylish and FUN.
Cheers to you and your new family members – you are blessed and surrounded by love, laughter: Sending hugs and kisses, as we raise our glasses Southward next Saturday.
Cried like a crazy person — or a mother of the groom, kinda the same. As you know, I just did this. And you nailed it.
Lovely….
Are you wearing your stiletto heal shoes today?
Count your blessings because you do not have fractured leg bones LOL
F
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Monica and Marty, It was just yesterday that I witnessed you both happily traipsing down the aisle! Monica, I have always been in awe of how you carry yourself with needle like precision on any stiletto that has been attached to those gams!…. Amber will be so blessed to be a part of your beautiful family and, God willing, will add another generation to the lineage. You are one of the most graceful women to adorn my life and, as someone who loves you two very much…I raise all sorts of glasses to you!! Yiassou to Joseph and Amber! I love you all!