Tomorrow my little brother is getting married to a fabulous girl. She has perfect teeth and golden blond hair but she has this really cool flavor to her as if she might just have been goth in high school so you forgive all her very perfect perfections.
She has a cat named Waffles and loves to read books to my girls, never skipping pages like me when I get tired of reading the same story over and over. She takes her time and turns the pages so slowly, skimming her eyes over each one to make sure she caught every detail. I love this about her.
Tonight can be described in cocktail dresses, the chatter of old friends meeting again, little girls in pearls, men in shiny ties and of course, the random clinking of glasses with forks to toast the future groom and bride.
It would seem as the perfect night for any rehearsal dinner except in our case, there was a big elephant in the room.
My dad wasn’t there.
Baby brother addressed this in his speech which felt like a small punch in the gut, my mom crying in to her napkin, apologetically. He did a good job and my heart filled with love and pride as he described our family as being put back together, but better and stronger.
None of us kids are very good at hiding big elephants; it is our greatest strength and flaw at the same time.
After a lot of work on my own daddy issues, including the grief and forgiveness acquired because of them, I was surprised at my hurt tonight. I mean actually surprised. It was as if I wanted to put my hand over the hurt, the throb that seemed to beat with my heart, and look around to see if anyone else noticed what I did, this deep hurt, breathing and living and hiding inside of me. I am not good at hiding it, so I don’t know how or what to do with it, except go on, doing all the things that seem right, like attending weddings and taking photos and making blueberry pancakes for my little ones for breakfast.
I actually just told Clyde that it wasn’t even there anymore and tonight I feel so defeated, as if it is somehow my fault that I can’t confidently say I am moving forward, as if that isn’t what I want more than anything in the world.
I’m supposed to be joyful, grateful, always looking for the lesson and the rainbow on a dark cloudy night.
And I will. But, tonight, dear readers, I just hurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment