"Poor, dear Charlie. Batshit crazy but so lovable."

Kate’s tendency to launch into Therapist-speak is one of those lovable idiosyncrasies that people reminisce about when you die.  (Especially since she never was one; before she was a priest she was a community organizer and state lobbyist.)  Of course they may not realize that it was lovable as long as you’re alive.  I brought this up to Ed when I told him about the fight.  (Or, as Kate would say, “difference of opinion.”)

I want to make sure Ed knows my foibles are lovable while I’m still around.  I asked him if there was anything I did that he found “quirky.”

“Well, you pick the chunks out of the granola when the kids aren’t around.”

“You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“No, but I don’t like granola.”

“What else?”

“Well, those English expressions you use.  Like ‘before you can say knife.’  And you call the fruit and vegetable store ‘the greengrocer’ and the dishtowels ‘tea towels.’  And the way you say ‘dog’.” (I don’t know what it is about the way I say dog, but for years that was my trick at parties.)  “And the way you want to have discussions about things nobody has ever thought about, especially when I’m trying sleep.”

 “What else?”

“Charlie, we have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Don’t you want to know what your quirks are?”

Ed sighed.  “Sure, why not?”

But I was too tired to think of anything, and I fell asleep before you could say knife.

 

Paper and plastic won!

Purcell's Trumpet Tune to Get Everyone in the Mood

The girls are already practicing for their walk down the aisle.

Save the Date!

 

 

Katherine Maria Parker

And

Janet Wilson McDonald

Joyfully request the honour of your presence at their marriage

Saturday, October 12

At two o’clock in the afternoon.

Church of the Epiphany

 

Reception immediately following the ceremony in the Parish Hall

 

 

Nostalgia and Nerves

We were sitting around the kitchen table trying to decide what to do about going down the aisle.  Naturally, no one gives brides away today; they are “escorted.”  I thought it would be nice for Ed to escort Janet, but Kate doesn’t have any children and her parents are dead.  She thought of asking her brother, but he’s in a Buddhist monastery in Japan. 

“Maybe Josh could take Janet and Ed could take Kate.”  But what about our nephew Dylan?

“Maybe you can just go down together,” I said.  “When I got married, all the way down the aisle, my father kept whispering to me that it wasn’t too late to call off the wedding.”

Kate looked concerned.  “How did that make you feel?”

Janet looked exasperated.  “For God’s sake, Kate.  You’re off the clock now.”

“I’m just trying to be supportive of Charlie.”

“Charlie doesn’t need you to be supportive.  She’s worked through her issues.”

“Maybe she’d like to talk about it.”

“Charlie is very happy with her life, and besides, her father is an asshole on roller-skates.”

“You’re going to upset her even more by criticizing her father.”

I was about to tell them that I just thought it was a funny story and give Kate the opportunity to tell Janet that I was in denial, when Kate said, “Excuse me” and ran out of the kitchen. 

Janet burst into tears.  I started to go to her, but she told me to go after Kate.  Josh had come in and was staring into the refrigerator.  I told him to “Go hug Grandma” as I ran out.

Kate was in the den.  She was crying.  “I just want a nice wedding,” she said between sobs.  “I just want everybody to be happy.”

“Good luck with that,” I thought.  But I just handed her a box of tissues and put my arm around her.  “It’s just wedding nerves.  Everybody has fights before their wedding.”

I couldn’t believe that I was comforting a Priest of the Church.  I thought they never got upset, except maybe about suffering and injustice.  By now, Kate was sniffling and blowing her nose.  Well, what worked with the children might work for her.  “Now let’s wash your face,” I said, “and then we’ll have a nice cup of tea and maybe some cookies.”

“Th-thank you.  That would be very nice.”

When we got back to the kitchen, Janet was making Josh a peanut butter sandwich.  He looked at her and then at Kate.

“Now tell each other you’re sorry.”

“Josh!”

“Well, that’s what you make us do.”

So they did.  All we had was Oreos, but no one complained.

Down Memory Lane

Naturally Nikki and Karen and their families will be at the wedding.  Janet says they are her third and fourth daughters and we remind her of Allison and her friends in junior high and high school.  I think that’s a compliment.  I believe Allison was occasionally nice then.

We were at Karen’s for our usual Friday night in.  Ben and Jerry have put out some new flavors.  We started talking about our own weddings.

Mine was in the Episcopal Church where I went to at college, a month after graduation.  My mother, who believed in letting me “learn from my mistakes” pitched in bravely, although none of my grandparents knew where the service would be until they got the invitation.  She kept saying, “Now you can always go back to school.” My father mostly snorted and growled.

Ed graduated a year before I did and got a job in the town we live in now.  He didn’t get an apartment right away to save money and lived with Janet.  “Where did you go?”  Karen asked. 

 “We went to the movies a lot."      

 “No, I mean . . . you know.  Or was your roommate nice about it?”

 “About what?”

 Nikki sighed.  “Your needs.  Not to mention Ed’s.”  Then she giggled. 

“Oh.”  I got it.  “Well, we didn’t do it until our wedding night.”

 "You’re kidding.”

“No.  We’d met at the Episcopal Campus Group.  So of course, we couldn’t . . . you know, till we were married.  “

“Well, you could have."

Karen must have sensed that Nikki was about to ask for details, because she said, “What was your dress like?”              

"Victorian.  It had long lace sleeves and a high collar.  And a veil, of course.  It was my mother’s.  We decided to go completely retro and the bridesmaids wore long dresses with flower prints.”

Nikki had been married in Germany, “In the cutest little church.   I wouldn’t have been surprised if Heidi had walked through the door with the goats.”  Her whole family had flown over as a favor to her husband’s family, so his grandparents, who really couldn’t have made the trip, could see him married.  “My parents didn’t really care, since we didn’t have a church and Helmut’s family paid for the wedding.  I didn’t care either, since I got to go to Germany.”

 Then, of course, Karen dug out her wedding album.  She got married in December in a candlelight service.  It was only about ten years ago, but we couldn’t believe how dowdy everyone looked, when they weren’t trying to be retro.  Karen had worn a strapless gown and her mother had worried all through the service that it would fall down.  She’d made Karen’s father hold her coat in his lap so he could run up and throw it over her. 

“What about the reception?  Did he follow you around?”

 “No, I think she figured everyone would be too drunk to notice.”

 It turned out that right after the wedding (Just before Christmas!) the minister who had performed the ceremony left his wife for another woman, who was married too.  What had really made Karen’s mother mad was that she wasn’t even a member of the congregation.  “My mother said, it wasn’t as if they had fallen in love working together.  The time he spent with her, he should have been doing stuff for the church.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “The assistant pastor took over.”

  “No, I mean with them?”

 “They got married and he became a Unitarian minister.”

   I was a little embarrassed for the Unitarians, but not surprised.

  

               

It's that time again!

Right in the middle of the wedding planning, it was time for Back to School, the unofficial holiday between the Fourth of July and Halloween. There were paper leaves and cardboard school bells and apples all over the stores and back to school ads on TV, with kids dancing and singing as if new clothes and backpacks made up for losing their freedom.  They do help, of course.

I got Ed to take care of Josh; I knew he would get everything done quickly and efficiently.  So we went in separate cars, a jolly caravan of consumers.

Shopping with two girls is one of those experiences that “challenge you to grow,” as my mother used to say when I complained about having to do something.  I tell the children to “offer it up.”  And I was given a lot to offer.

Cilla and her friends have decided that “if it isn’t pink, they’re not wearing it.”  And on the first day, everything had to be totally pink.  After that they would condescend to wear contrasting pants or skirts.

Betsey told me I was “spoiling her” and looked superior until I reminded her of the year she and her friends wore purple all day every day; even their pajamas had to be purple.

I shouldn’t have said anything because Cilla decided that she needed pink pajamas and wanted to call her friends right now, please, please, please so they could get some too.

I told her we would get the pajamas now, but she’d have to wait until we got home to call her friends.

Betsey was a little easier, since she doesn’t have a bust or interest in boys yet.  She needed five pairs of jeans, a variety of tops, some with sayings I didn’t understand, but which she assured me weren’t naughty, and some sweaters for me to nag her to take with her, even if she didn’t wear them, because it could get chilly.

All around us mothers were squabbling with daughters and exchanging eye rolls.  It was a real sisterhood moment.

The girls wanted to stop at McDonald’s to celebrate their haul, but I told them that it wouldn’t be fair to Daddy and Josh, but we’d have pizza tonight.

On the way out of the mall, we stopped at the bulk candy store for the first candy corn and pumpkins of the season.

I said a prayer of thanksgiving that the girls didn’t see the McDonald’s wrappers in the trash when we got home.  Fortunately, Josh forgot to wave his Happy Meal monster in their faces.

Sometimes you get a break.

Allison Makes a Suggestion

After her interchange with Cilla, Allison stopped referring to Kate as Pastor Parker.  Now, when she talks to Janet, she calls her “your fiancée.”  That’s the good news.

The bad news is that when I had everyone over for dinner, Allison suggested that we invite Doug, her father, to the wedding.   “It would be healing.”

Ed snorted.  “I think we’re all pretty much healed.”

Janet didn’t say anything.

 I was afraid that Kate was about to say something therapisty, so I said, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”  But I was too late.

But Kate surprised me.  She talked like a regular person, albeit one who didn’t understand the situation or was just clueless.  “I think it would be very nice.  We’ll all share grandchildren.  It would be nice if we could all be friends.”

“What about Missy?”  Ed asked.  Missy is Ed’s stepmother.  She had been Janet’s best friend.  Janet once said that what she really missed after the divorce was Doug’s paycheck and Missy.

Janet shrugged.  “Why not?  We might as well be modern.  And it’s not like I care about him.  And we might as well ask your dad, too, Charlie, so all the grandparents can see the kids in their outfits.”  I wondered if she thought this up because she knows Doug can’t stand my father.  Not that she can either.

Later she told me that she really didn’t care, but she mainly agreed because she didn’t want to argue with Allison and, anyway, she didn’t think “the SOB would have the nerve to accept.”

But for some reason, probably because Allison got to him, he did. 

And because Cilla asked my father to please, please, please come, he accepted, too.