Last night I dreamt I was embracing my sleeping two-year-old boy in my arms. I felt such serenity as I gazed down at his peaceful, sweet face. My baby is thirty, and in just three days he’ll be married! For weeks and months friends and family ask, “Are you excited?” Of course, I’m excited. But being actively engaged in wedding preparations and living, it took a dream to give me a full pause to take in this momentous occasion.
For years I prayed and envisioned Theo meeting his just right woman. Watching on as his older cousins married and had children, I wanted the same for our boy. He’d date girls for three to six months, but each was right for that moment-in-time only; there were no future possibilities. My mother-heart was heavy. Then, just before Covid-19 hit, he met Sarah on the dating website, Hinge. Boom! That was it. They’d found the love of their life! And my husband, Gus and I could feel it, too. Nine months after they met Sarah moved into Theo’s condo and they began making wedding plans. It’s so good and right, and… my baby’s getting married!
We get to experience the fullness of our emotions and joy when we take a pause. I thank you for sharing this pause with me. My hope is that it will connect you to your emotions to tenderly take in your own transitions.
Our kids getting married—one of the endless transitions we go through as parents and as humans. Our kid’s first step, first word, kindergarten, middle school, high school, drivers license, college, first job, career, marriage, home, children—and that’s just the common transitions.
Today I opened for the first time in a long time, a journal of letters I’ve been writing to Theo since he was born. When he was a baby, I’d write monthly. As he got older it was yearly. And now, it’s less frequently than that. In its pages are my heartfelt recordings of Theo’s momentous moments. I wrote it for him, but I can see it was for me, too. Each pause then and now enables me to savor the experience more fully of my boy at that moment of life.
He always adjusted to his transitions much better than I did. Here’s an entry a few days before move-in-day at Quinnipiac University August 27, 2010:
“I was getting a little emotional saying, ‘My boy isn’t going to be living home anymore’ and you responded, ‘Mom, I’m just doing what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s like when I went to kindergarten. The other kids were crying and clinging to their moms, but I was happy and had to help you to let me go. I’m ready to go now mom, and you’re going to be OK.’”
I’m just doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Out of the mouth of babes. Our children are our greatest teachers. It makes me think of what Kahlil Gibran says in “On Children” from his book, The Prophet.
Your children are not your children.
They come through you, but not from you
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
As my cousin Brenda said to cheer me up after I dropped Theo off at college, “You did your job as a mother well if your kid is ready to move onto the next stage of their life. Sending them off to live their own life is what it’s all about.”
I know my boy-man is ready to get married by the partner he is to Sarah. He puts her first and lavishes her with love and adoring teasing. He is his full Theo-self with her, just as he’s always been with Gus and me, making audacious, clever, frank statements that raise our spirits. That tells me volumes about their connection. He and she know each other’s strengths and weaker points and embrace it all. They share living responsibilities on all levels and can talk through their different points of view. Most of all they love being together. My mom-heart is so happy my boy is marrying the love of his life.
Gus and I are ready to be the bows for Theo’s arrow. He’s been preparing us. Four years ago, our boy-man bought a condo and moved out. He calls me less. At times I miss the level of closeness we used to have, but with mother-love I rejoice he’s moving on to this next wonderful stage of his life. I’m grateful he’s brought Sarah into our family. If she wasn’t becoming a daughter to us, I’d pick her as a friend.
Our son, our boy—is getting married!
Have you had similar feelings? I’d love to hear from you about your experiences and any wisdom you have to share.
Want some uplift? My book is available on Amazon.
