Small joys

Today, in a few hours, Robert and I are going to go do some fun wedding things. In the meantime, he's been at work and I've been doing laundry and grading. Eventually, I need to re-buckle down and get back to studying for my exams. I need to do this sooner rather than later because the pile of books just isn't going away. I'm not feeling as panicky about the studying as I had been after having spoken with some people who have already taken and passed their exams. They gave me wonderful tips for how to read and study, which alleviates a great deal of pressure from me. I feel as though it's more manageable now. I will never be prepared enough, but I will be passably prepared. And that's all that matters.

This is not supposed to be about exams.

Robert and I are going to do fun wedding errands today. We're going into town to look at tuxes (eehehehe!), and then once we're done there, we'll be visiting the local stationary store to look at our invitations and thank-you notes. We're looking at something else for our save-the-dates. I am so thrilled to get to do this with him, and I am even more thrilled that Robert is happy to do this with me, too. We're not the cookie-cutter affianced couple; Robert is not going to disappear until the wedding day, and I am not going to make decisions alone. This makes us happy, even if our parents (or perhaps it's really just my father who's at least voiced it) are skeptical of Robert's interest in the wedding-planning process. He doesn't get as giddy about it as I do, but his joy comes in different ways. As his fiancée, I can recognize when he is enjoying himself--he doesn't have to flail and speak in higher decibels and flit around to prove to me that he's interested in this process.

Another joy that's forthcoming is this weekend. We're going to be extremely busy, but Robert and I are going to Atlanta to visit my parents. Robert will be less busy than I will be...he and Dad will do whatever it is they do when the girls go away. My mom, sister, and I will be doing a great deal of wedding things this weekend. The original plan for this weekend was to go for a light hike up in North Georgia, but Dad's horrible travel schedule would have made the weekend exhausting and stressful. So, we've adjusted. On Saturday sometime (I don't know the full details or where we're going), but Mom has made plans for my sister, our very best friend from childhood who got engaged a few weeks ago (Amy), and myself to go look at wedding gowns. I am so excited! My sister's wedding is still a while off...and she's not engaged yet, but she's still wanting to look. I told her it'd be a good time of year to look because they want to have a winter wedding. I figure this time of the year, they're pulling out their fall/winter stock, so my sister will be able to start getting ideas. Our best friend is getting married sometime in April, a month before me. So she and I are sort of in crunch time. I think the significance of this trip requires some background.

In 1994, when I was 12, my sister was 10, and Amy (our next-door neighbor) was 11, Amy's mom was diagnosed with breast cancer...again. It was my sister's 10th birthday, and Mrs. Bonnie pulled my mom into the kitchen with her (while the three of us girls were playing with my sister's presents) and asked my mom if she felt a lump on Mrs. Bonnie's breast. She had gone into remission--it was so low-key the first time that I don't really remember it. It's the second time that I remember best. Mrs. Bonnie fought that cancer as hard as she could; we were a very strong support system because our two households were strongly interlinked. They had moved into the next-door house months after we had moved into our house, and everyone was close in age. Mr. Sam, Mrs. Bonnie, and my parents were about the same age. Their only daughter was in the middle of mine and my sister's ages. It was perfect. Mr. Sam and Mrs. Bonnie were like second parents for my sister and me. My parents were like second parents for Amy. We loved each other like we were family.

In March, 1996, the cancer killed Mrs. Bonnie. Amy had just turned 13 a month before, I was 14, and my sister was 11. I cannot describe the sadness that overcame both households. Amy had lost her mother. Mr. Sam had lost his closest friend and wife. My mom had lost her best friend. My sister and I had lost our second mom. We were all devastated. Over the years, the healing has been gradual...our households ended up drifting apart because of life issues--Mr. Sam and Amy moved away when I graduated from college. They didn't move far, but they weren't our next-door neighbors anymore. My sister and I were in a different state going to graduate school. Everyone's lives grew in different directions. It makes sense, too...we were all very painful reminders for each other of who we had lost. I think we needed space. We needed to start over.

I'm thrilled to say that in the past couple of years, there has been a great deal of reconciliation and restrengthening of our relationships. I was brought to near hysteria when Amy walked in the door at my engagement party in July--I hadn't seen her in a couple of years, and I wasn't really sure if she was going to be able to come or not. I cannot adequately describe how important it is to have her involved during this time.

Our trip on Saturday carries a great deal of significance for us, as well. After Mrs. Bonnie died, one of the first things Amy said to me in private was, "My mom won't teach me to drive...see me graduate...or be at my wedding." It still brings tears to my eyes to remember that sad fact. I know her wedding will be bittersweet with the absence of her mother. Saturday will be a lot of fun, but I know it will be emotional as well. What girl wouldn't want her mom there while she's trying on wedding dresses for the first time? My mom will serve as a substitute...but she isn't Mrs. Bonnie, and I know that will be thick in the air. Again, I know we will have a wonderful time, and we'll probably be very giddy and silly. But part of me wonders how else Saturday will be like. I'm just happy that we can all be doing this together.

Anyway, despite all the potential sadness, I count this even as a joy. I'm so happy!