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.