Ideal and Reality

Happy Valentines Day to you and your love.

Recently I've been sucked into watching the ABC reality show "The Bachelor." The premise of the ABC show is that an eligible bachelor is woed by dozens of gorgeous girls who only have a short amount of time to gain his attention, competing with other girls who all live in the same house. Their grand prize for gaining his favor -- a bling bling engagement ring.

With each passing week, I stand amazed at how fast these incredible women fall for this man. Their deepest desires for marriage, children and security surface as the process of elimination intensifies. In the final phases of the "love race," the women bring the bachelor home for their mother's, father's and siblings to give him the third degree.

This is where the pain lies in knowing that many brides don't have that luxury. Many brides have only a partial family to bring their groom home to and to attempt to describe to him what their loved one "would have" said or "could have" done to make him feel at home, to add a maternal touch to wedding madness.

Most mother-of-the bride books agree that the title "mother of the bride" has far more to do with a list of responsibilities than a title. On the day of the wedding, although there may be a missing spot for where the mother of the bride may stand, it is in the period leading up to that day, many motherless brides feel the practical void of responsibilities a mother would normally fulfill.

Some fear having to explain themselves and prefer to plan much of the wedding themselves. To move this experience into the realm of reality, I'll close with the story of one bride, for anonymity sake we'll call her Candice, who reflects on dealing with loss through her wedding experience.

I felt a pang of loss when my husband and I were picking out our china. He was one of the only men there, and every other bride was with her mother. And my family table was sparse because she wasn’t there. It was hard to face that because both parents were gone, not only would they both not see me get married, but my dad wouldn’t be able to walk me down the aisle. I made a point of walking it myself, picking up my maternal grandfather – who walked with a cane – at the first couple pews. I didn’t want anyone else to stand in, I wanted all or nothing, and to show I was independent.

Holiday Family

"It's the most wonderful time of the year..." sings a middle-aged man's voice on the radio.

It is the most wonderful time of the year indeed. And for you Christmas/ New Years brides out there...your wedding will be blessed, blissed and beautiful.

Celebrating the holidays with close friends and family, I noticed a pattern. Many men gravitate to their wives families. Holiday family gatherings are usually harnessed around a maternal figure, and the wife's family nucleus. The togetherness in this most wonderful time of the year can so easily amplifies the missingness of a loved one.

A mother is an anchor, a source of order, strength and home. For families that lose that anchor and warmth, it becomes so easy to spend life pretending. Pretending it doesn't matter that much, really. Pretending to be as interested in other family units out of the void of your own.

Last night, in an air conditioned car on a frigid night, my husband and I had a conversation about the emptiness that comes with not having a second side of the family to complete the family circle.

First come the justifications...we live far away by choice. We're adults now, independent and complete in our own right. But the truth of the matter is that the picture is unwhole. And the memories of what it would have been like for it to be whole fade with every passing year. Nine years of not hearing a loved one's voice is a long time. A make believe lie of her going on a long trip can no longer hold up.

So the conclusion of our car talk was to accept this reality. We've tried to challenge it, change it, work around it...but this year, for it to be the most wonderful season, we're embracing it. No longer pretending. Even if it's our own little secret.

The Jolly Holidays

Already Thanksgiving has made it's 2008 entrance, followed by the jolly Christmas spirit.

It's the nation's one last shot to creep out of hybernation before the freezing cold settles in.

And here -- juggling between wedding budgets and contract maneuvering, add to the bride's to-do list: gift giving, card sending, party attending, family mingling and mother missing.

Before freaking out on your fiance from stress, or to any tree that will listen -- allow me to propose one hidden wedding planning benefit of this busy season.

The opportunity to ask for help.

Many motherless brides I have met revel in the appearance of being entirely self sufficient. Indeed, the notion of asking for help would mean to acknowledge weakness and face up to the feeling of wanting to be safe in the strength of a mother's arms.

I remember sitting on a carpeted floor days before our wedding, bundling bird-friendly confetti into little strips of material I had envisioned to be cast upon my fiance and I as we were to be announced husband and wife.

Housemates that walked by my neat little bundles frequently asked if I needed help.

Politely I declined. Over and over. Resenting the fact that they couldn't read my mind, roll up their sleeves and start counting confetti.

To ask for their help would mean my confessing "I feel alone and scared, would you help me and give me the support I need?" Although the request would not be interpreted as such, I was determined not to feel like someone's project. Besides, getting married was my choice, why should people feel obligated to help.

Such an approach alienated me, feeding my distrust of people's motives.

Which leads me back to the subject at hand. The blessed holiday season is a time of coming together, figuratively as well as literally. Being true to your heart and inviting others in will bring a comfort isolation does not allow. Trust me, I've been there.

For many people, complex family issues arise at this time. People are craving comfort and the warmth of friendship.

Inviting others to help you bundle confetti balls, assemble invitations, or shop for random deals can seal the joy of the season, both for you and for those who want to share in your joy.

If Not Now -- then When

It's been 3 weeks since my last update. Started a new job, yes, even in a sagging economy. With change always comes deep feelings of insecurity. In my heart, I know I am lovely, intelligent, and competent. Yet, there's this shadow that always tells me otherwise. In those moments I remember the precious advice I recieved, and did not entirely adhere to, during our premarital counseling.

There are lots of different approaches to premarital counseling. Many couples prefer to do it through a religious institution where faith is the foundation of a relationship and where admittedly the cost is less than professional counseling.

I recall the best advice our clergy counselor gave us...as we informally chatted around breakfast at an all American diner discussing issues such as finances, "fighting well" and all the traditional topics to cover before engaging in marriage. During that specific meeting he listened for the first time about the death of my mother. He asked me if I had considered professional counseling.

"Do you know how much that costs?!" I asked, aghast that he would suggest that during a season of financial crunch he would suggest I see a professional grief counselor.

"How much did your dress cost?" Was his unsolicited response.

"$250" My proud reaction thinking back to the great deal I found online to the dress of my dreams.

"You mean you would spend $250 without hesitation on a dress you want to make sure is clean and white for your wedding day, but you wouldn't spend that amount to ensure you walk that aisle with a clean soul?"

His words pierced my defenses. "Who is he to judge the state of my soul?" Was my first reaction, followed by, "he's got a point." A secondary reaction.

Now...nearly 3 years later, change still draws back the same stings that made my wedding the best and most painful experience of my life. Change...be it a job, a location, anything brings back hiccups of the same flavor of a pain that accompanied that season. Yet...finances has always been the reason I never reached for a counselor I felt comfortable with.

I titled this post "If Not Now -- then When" after a Tracy Chapman song that served as an epiphany from my engagement days. Back then I believed the numbing agent of time to be an interpretation of healing. But the feelings that surged during that period, were actually a gift, a clear open door to areas in my life that could be worked through, at any cost, before they crystalized in my heart, resurging at vulnerable times.

You can wait 'til morning comes
You can wait for the new day
You can wait and lose this heart
You can wait and soon be sorry
Now love's the only thing that's free
We must take it where it's found
Pretty soon it may be costly
If now now what then
We all must live our lives Always feeling Always thinking
The moment has arrived.
If not now then when...

Learning to Fly

I recently picked up The Shack after scores of recommendations from friends. Within an hour, my cerebrum escaped our cosy apartment into a landscape of lush forests and into an author's unbashfully forthright conversation with God [depicted as a "She"] about the problem of pain and its relationship to love and freedom.

"Consider our friend over here," she began. "Most birds were created to fly. Being grounded for them is a limitation within their ability to fly, not the other way around...Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly...And if left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place." (p. 97)

Reading this simple analogy triggered a universe of fear in loving and potentially losing again. Of unleashing 8-year old clippings on my wings. I had forgotten what it means to love without fear of death or anxiety.

After all, if I loved my mother, provider, protector and friend so dearly and couldn't change the circumstances of her death, am I willing to risk again and love this man who could devastate my heart again if he were to die?

Extreme as such thinking may appear to some, it's common, real and rooted in a fear founded on experience that can't be argued away, even by a fiance. It's the question a bride must ask herself prior to vowing "till death do us part" and it's the question she may ask every snowy night that her husband drives in a car, or every time he shows a sign of sickness.

Your thoughts, comments...?

Mother of the Bride

Would knowing the duties that a mother would traditionally fulfill during engagement and the wedding make planning easier for a motherless bride?

Yes/ no/ Possibly?

Show Me Some Love

I often speak to brides who secretly feel angry. Pinpointing a menial wedding detail or comment from someone in the wedding party may be the immediate target of the frustration...but dig a little deeper and the hurt unravels into a deep ache for having mom there to pick up the pieces of logistics, appointments, and attitudes. To reassure the apple of her eye that "everything will be alright."

Many brides spend so much time and energy compensating for her absence, never truely showing the pain. In Motherless Daughters, Hope Edelman offers a nugget of perspective that I think highlights the importance of having someone close, anyone sensitive to your situation, to know the truth of reason behind your emotions.

As women, we have few adequate models for releasing rage, and we often give in to the impulse to pretend it isn’t there. Which is really an unfortunate consequence, because anger can be our ally, at least for a while. As a first-response emotion, it can protect us from feeling intense sadness until we’ve passed through an intitial adjustment stage. But clinging to anger too long keeps us from addressing the emotions underneath, and those-resentment, desertion, confusion, guilt, love-are the ones on which true mourning is based.

Your thoughts?