I had the joy of celebrating this past weekend– and celebrating hard. With friends and family clustering around at every side throughout, it was well worth putting my phone down, laptop away, and simply being with my most adored ones.
This Saturday we finally celebrated my mother’s fabulous marriage at a bridal shower that was beyond special. A bit belated, but perfect regardless.
I’m sitting in my dimly lit living room with M83 playing in the background, grapefruit La Croix in reach, snuggled into my new little body pillow covered in cats (thank you, Lisa) thinking about… marriage.
It wasn’t until getting off the phone with our dear family friend, Tina, yesterday that I realized that I had been quite mum about well, my mum’s marriage.
This weekend was special for a few reasons: the biggest, having the honor of being with my amazing family-to-be. Spending time with Robin and her lovely sister and mom (who I have a feeling are going to become very special people in my life!) as she found the most perfect vintage wedding dress from UrbanXChange was a highlight that delights and warms me each time I think of her floating in a haze of laced white.
It has been six years today since my dad, Hal, died. It feels like that time has passed in a heartbeat yet in the same breath like he’s been in the shadows of my memory for a decade.
*Written October 24th (my mom told me to publish this immediately after I read it to her; hi mom: love you)
Throughout all of my past romantic relationships, I have told one big, fat lie: “I hate romance/rom-com films.”
Last week many celebrated the birthday of my amazing mother, Sheila. We first enjoyed a warm, espresso martini evening complete with a dance party surrounded by our dearest friends (thank you Alicia and Matt for being such awesome hosts!) and anticipated a much-planned weekend at Elk Meadows just across from Hood River for the upcoming weekend.
I can’t be sure if it’s the glowing orb of a moon hanging in the sky like a bowl of gold, Barcelona radio playing in the background, skimming through my amazing nephew’s recent travel photos (Luke Mattson), or being surrounded by moving boxes again that has me feeling overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with gratitude, overwhelmed with wonder, overwhelmed with questions, overwhelmed with histrionics, overwhelmed with my surprising ability to be so surprisingly present in the simple moment of now.
Pain is a strange thing. It’s beautiful and it’s horrifying and it’s been researched and reviewed and wondered about for centuries. I’ve read that the body refuses to remember specific types of pain, childbirth for instance. There are also the types that the mind will hold onto forever. Research shows that any pain lasting more than a few minutes leaves a trace in the nervous system. But that’s only physical pain- what about the emotional? Suppression or substitution are two ways of avoiding memories of painful or uncomfortable times, yet in the moment of emotional or mental pain it feels as if there is no way to reduce it other than chemically.