Yesterday I attended a wedding with The Boy. There were a few firsts associated with this particular wedding.
It was the first time I had been to a wedding since my mom died.
It was the first time I had been to a wedding with a boyfriend.
It was the first time I attended a wedding where I didn’t know a single person but the bride and groom (both of whom I had met once).
As I mentioned in my last couple of posts, I have been pretty down lately, for all kinds of reasons, and for no reason at all. I wasn’t so much in the mood for a wedding (where I knew no one), but figured, hey, free alcohol.
Thing is, yesterday was also supposed to be my parents’ 34th wedding anniversary. I, of course, knew immediately when The Boy told me about the wedding that it fell on my parents’ anniversary. It’s not like my family was going to be celebrating it anyway, but it felt a bit weird knowing I was going to be going to a wedding that day.
Though, come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all – my parents had a great marriage that would have definitely been celebrated yesterday had it not been cut short by glioblastoma. So, to me, the date is blessed. I only hope the couple who married yesterday will have as much love in their home as my parents had in theirs.
The ceremony was beautiful, and I’m not into the corny wedding thing at all. The bride was beautiful (in Israeli weddings the reception is before the ceremony, and the bride and groom arrive together and great the guests as they arrive), the music was nice, it wasn’t too humid (though my hair begs to differ), and the rabbi was funny.
I found myself, as the bride’s parents walked down the isle, forcing myself not to think about the situation I was in. Every time my brain had the audacity to shift over to less-than-pleasant thoughts, I internally beat myself up and literally blanked out my brain. I don’t quite know how to explain it, maybe it’s something similar to the meditation I learned back when I was taking martial arts classes, but I literally cleared my brain of everything.
Because if I wouldn’t, instead of seeing the ceremony itself, I would think of the fact that my mother won’t be there if I get married. And that would make me think of other related issues, such as wedding invitations. Wedding invitations list the parents of the bride and the parents of the groom. Would only my father’s name appear on the invite? Would my mom’s too? Would it be following by z”l (RIP in Hebrew)? If he remarries at some point, would her name be on the invite? Is there even a correct answer?
I actually had a lot of fun, once the actual ceremony was over and I could concentrate on eating (I was done drinking since I was driving). I danced my first slow dance since 8th grade (I’m almost 32) and found out that you can, indeed, forget how to dance.
And I dance ballet.
We did the eat, drink, dance, and socialize thing, and it was actually tons of fun, especially given the state we were both in last week. Other than watching the bride and groom’s parents dance on the dance floor (another reminder of something we’ll miss), my mom’s absence from the rest of my life, including a wedding that I may one day have, was not as felt as it was during the ceremony.
It’s a good thing I’m all for eloping.
Posted in Brain Cancer, brain tumors, death and dying, Family cancer support, Glioblastoma Tagged: Brain Cancer, brain tumors, death and dying, Family cancer support, Glioblastoma, grief, mourning process, terminal cancer, things I'll miss out on, things she'll miss out on