A Mother's Intuition (Part Two)

When Em and Ry were    ” just  college friends”  who had returned to their homes for the summer, Ry, an EMT, would occasionally show up in my driveway in an ambulance – between calls. He lived 30 minutes away, but the company he worked for covered our neighborhood.  Once he visited Em in the middle of the night. My middle. Not theirs.  For college students, the night is still young at 2 AM.

No siren was involved, but I woke up to a revolving red light flashing through my bedroom window.  When I looked through the pane I could see them kibitzing, along with his shift partner.  The next morning, a few of my neighbors looked as if they were surprised to see me up and about..

Anyways. . . the following school year, Em went to Washington D.C to study. It was the stay - in - the - USA version of  a semester abroad. She surprised me when,  less than ten days after her departure, she asked to fly home for the weekend. Was she homesick? Not  quite. More likely lovesick, but too close to the malaise to figure out the symptoms. What she had figured out  was - if she flew home Friday afternoon, we could hop in the car and head to the Stonehill  campus in time to see  Ry , the backstage guy, perform his first role on the Stonehill Theatre stage.

The plane  from D.C. landed on time. As we headed northeast the Mass Pike traffic moved right along to 495S – a minor miracle at the start of a weekend.  We arrived and took our seats (no surprising  before the show!) just in time to see Ry’s debut – a success for us, offstage, and for him, on.

 As Mommy-of-his--greatest-fan, I gave Ry even stronger reviews for his extemporaneous performance after the show. He spotted me first. Looked  downright confused. Then  turned to the sound of Em’s voice as she uttered, “Surprise.” Then came the hug. I’m not sure I would have thought Em’s two-legged trip – in the air and on the Pike—would have been worth the trouble if he stopped at a hug. But he didn’t. Almost as  if the move had been rehearsed, he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up, and gave her a little spin  the way Gene Kelly might lift Judy Garland in For Me and My Gal.  Coming attractions, I thought, to the sequel of this story. 

A Mother's Intuition (Part One)

I claim to have known  Ry was the one for Em way before Em knew.

Em and Ry's first play together - before they fancied each other

Really! She had been in college a few semesters and often talked about her friends from the Stonehill College Theatre Company.By then, Em had appeared in two productions . She debuted in the spring of 2004 playing a bit role in the relatively lighthearted Goodbye, My Fancy, an old play with a surprisingly modern message about women on a college campus, first produced in  the late forties. Goodbye My Fancy was something you could take your grandmothers to – and we did.

The next production in the Fall of the same year was not so grandmother-friendly. A Mouthful of Birds, a mid-1980s work, connected  seven stories that explored possession, madness, and female violence.  Em played the unhappy wife in the first vignette who slowly succumbs to post-natal psychosis, which leads her to drown her baby. Difficult for even a proud mother in the audience to watch.


 Ry worked behind the scenes in both plays. Light man/electrician. We, no doubt, exchanged a quick handshake as Em introduced me to her theatre pals after the plays. Maybe it was a hug after the second.

The following summer  my mother suffered severe health problems. I was forced to move her to a high-care facility and sell her home. On moving day Em’s theatre friend – Ryan – showed up in  a truck, mind you, to haul furniture. “He just wants to help,” I remember Em telling me. “He’s that kind of guy.”

Before he left I slipped an envelope onto his dashboard, a thank-you note and gift. Before he was gone ten minutes, he returned. “I can’t take this Mrs. Hayden. I helped as a friend.”

I’m not sure I knew he was the one then. But I remember thinking he should be.

(to be continued)                                                                          

In Their Own Words

Check out Em and Ryan's story in their own words.
http://www.wix.com/emilyandryan/10-8-11#!our-story

MOTBs and MOTGs  - pass this address  http://www.wix.com/  on to your future bride or groom if they are interested in  building  their own wedding site with pictures and music.  It's free.

On Second Thought

Emily’s father would have been 62 today.  He would have relished planning his daughter’s wedding.

Larry liked details. He was very involved in the nitty-gritty of our wedding in 1980. Not that our wedding was much of a production, as compared to new millennium weddings that require two years in advance  bookings, save-the-date announcements, multi-gift-registries,and the support of websites like www.theknot.com.

Even so, Larry added his share of touches to our day. 

The RX-7 touch in 1980

•  His idea: no limo. My dad drove me to the church which, after the "I do-s,"  freed up the bride and groom to drive off in our snazzy ‘78 Mazda RX-7.

• His idea: a venue where we’d  see golfers through the club's reception hall windows, as they putted out on the 18^th green. 
• His idea: a post-party photo at that 18^th hole – me holding the flagged pin as he tapped out!  

Larry wasn’t a “you decide honey, it’s your big day” kind of guy.  Dotting the “i” in wedding -- a wedding that fit us perfectly – was a mutual task.

Interestingly, my daughter's fiancé  Ryan has very much involved himself in the details of his and Em’s big day too.  He cares that the color scheme (including his tux) will blend with the season, that the size, shape, and arrangement of the tables will encourage convivial visiting and lots of dancing, that the buffet will sate the most hearty and most health-conscious  diners. I think his physician’s assistant training now, along with his earlier EMT and firefighting training, contributes to him being so detail oriented. A PA must diagnose symptom by symptom; a firefighter must analyze the nature of the blaze.

The mention of firefighters reminds me of a story that begs repeating - especially today. Three years ago, when Em was caught between a rock and a hard place over a number of decisions about her future – one question overshadowed the rest:  Is Ry the one?  Through December of that year she attempted to weigh emotions that were difficult to apply an "err-tight" rationale to. 

Ry the fire-guy

 On one particular afternoon drive, alone in her car in the throes of thought, she felt the need to pull over to the side of the road. Still, behind the steering wheel, she wished she could be sure about what to do. And she wished her father was alive to help her. Before a third wish could pop into her head she was interrupted by the sound of a siren followed by a honk. The long, loud honk blared again as a red fire truck came into view, its crew on its way to a conflagration.

When Em could think straight again – for who can  keep a  train of thought when a fire engine rushes by – the question she had been pondering was followed by an answer:  Ry – the fire guy – is certainly the one. By the time New Year's Eve turned to New Year's Day, a few weeks later, Em and Ry were a couple.

Did I say that Larry wasn’t around to plan Em’s wedding?
 I stand corrected.

This Blog's for You

As I write this, 11 computer screens in America are logged onto www.mommyofthebride.blogspot.com. As you read it, the blog approaches 1500 hits since its start 7 months ago. Post by post, the readership has been increasing.

I started the blog to record and celebrate the year leading up to my daughter Emily’s wedding. At the time I was working on some pretty heavy writing – a memoir of loss and survival – which completed my requirements for a writing degree in December. (More on the memoir at http://www.laurabhayden.com/) What a pleasure it was to start to focus on Em’s future while I wrapped up some very necessary reflection on the past.

Like the memoir, this blog seems to have taken on a life of its own. Last week alone, there were 84 U.S. hits, along with two that originated from Canada and two from Costa Rica.  I can pinpoint the Costa Rican connection. Ariel - my cousin-once-removed (what a polarizing title for a first cousin’s daughter!)  moved  to Central America with her recently wed husband in January.

 But my Canadian readers? Who are you? Mothers of brides? Brides? Or perhaps hopeless romantics like my reader pal whose wedding anniversary is the same day as Em and Ry’s date. It would be fun to know.

 And who is calling up  the site from Germany and Russia this week – along with readers from the Netherlands and Belarus this month?  I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t even know where Belarus was located before starting the blog; but through your connection, I’ve found out  it is a landlocked country in Eastern Europe, bordered  by Russia to the northeast, Ukraine to the south, Poland to the west, and Lithuania and Latvia to the northwest. Thank you for giving me reason to learn that. I wonder if the entries appear in the native tongues of my European fans?

And to my Algerian, Danish, and British readers -- who  logged in early on, but not lately – it  would be cool to see  you in the current Google Blogspot statistics again  - and even cooler to have you and the regular readers become official “followers”  like MH - my colleague from my high-school teaching days .  That would eliminate the one-way mirror feel from my side of blog post..

I’m thrilled to have all of you dear readers  -- family, friends, and citizens of the world -- share the joy of planning Em and Ry’s wedding. Your loyalty to this site assures me: Loves does make the world go round.

PAGE VIEWS BY COUNTRY

United States             1,389 Russia                          13 Germany                         9 Canada                           6 United Kingdom              5 Costa Rica                      3 Algeria                            2 Netherlands                    2 Belarus                           1 Denmark                         1

Snip and Tuck

Em’s wedding gown is  almost a wrap.

I’ve marveled at its transformation. At first, a lovely, albeit, large garment that – on a hanger –  mesmerized my daughter. Yet, the gown was a one-of-a kind, the design no longer available. When Emily slipped into the over-sized dress, the shopkeeper gathered the excess material with large clips fastened down its long back zipper. Even with this awkward fit, Em could see the possibilities of this dress - the details of which have been removed from this post to keep the audience guessing!  Trust me, the dress emits the casual elegance that  fits the little-bit-country, little-bit-classy design of the event. A milieu chosen by the future bride and groom.

The first dressmaker to assess the necessary alterations told us - yes, the dress could be refitted, but no- she was not the one to do it. Yet she knew a gal who might give it a try. So we traveled a few hours north to Lowell, MA to meet Jenn, a full-time tailor for Nordstrom’s  who majored in the fine art of textiles the way some people major in the fine art of painting – or writing. She didn’t consider  Em’s over-sized gown too much of a garment  to tackle. Instead she  said, “I can’t wait to get my hands on it.”  That’s exactly what the MOTB needed to hear.

Jenn had “rebuilt” other gowns. The most recent had to be expanded – for a pregnant bride. Compared to that, Em’s would be a cinch – for a girl who sews the way Alicia Keyes sings, that is.  Lots of measuring, ripping of ALL seams, relocating of darts. Like I said, rebuilding.

Now, seven months later, the potential in that first reflection of the dress in the bridal shop mirror has been realized.   The basted seams are now sewn.  I call it the gown that Jenn built.

Four Generations

Em's cousin Stacey

There was a family fest last weekend – a baby shower for Em’s oldest cousin Stacey who is expecting her first baby in June. Four generations of reveling relatives were there - from Stacey’s two grandmothers to the two great grandsons of the clan.  The youngest guest had just turned six; the matriarch of the family is approaching her mid-eighties.

Not since Stacey’s wedding, about eight years ago, have we, as a family, gathered to celebrate the future.  We’ve had our share of holiday and birthday get-togethers through those years. But those red-letter-events have been honoring the day at hand and traditions of the past more than the days that lay ahead. The mindset at Stacey’s baby shower looked forward to family growth and – as Em's wedding  will – the promise of the future. What a joy to be toasting the years ahead and all their possibilities, once again.

Four generations!