A Note to My Future Self as Mother of the Bride
As my wedding day nears (and I reflect on the many summers I spent as a bridesmaid), I write this note to my future self, knowing that I will forget all of the mind-numbing details that went into its planning. And that as much as we all fight it, we all eventually turn into our mothers – not that that’s a bad thing.
To my future self as mother of the bride,
Yes, I’m excited. My daughter is getting married! This is a big moment for me – um, I mean her. I want to share the news with my local butcher, my neighbour I rarely speak to, my Zumba instructor, all of my co-workers (especially Linda!), that sweet girl who always helps me when I’m looking for a face cream at Shoppers. Did I mention that I am excited?
I’ve skimmed the latest bridal magazines, placed sticky notes on appropriate pages, embraced my Pinterest skills and started a Wedding-themed board dedicated to my – errr, her – special day with gowns I know she’ll love and traditions she should follow. After all, who knows more about what she wants and needs for this occasion than I do – I’ve been waiting her whole life for this big event. Ever since I held her in my arms and dreamt of the type of woman she would turn into (hopefully someone just like me!), I had this moment in the back of my head.
But there are a few things I must remember.
This is her day. This is about her and my future son-in-law – not me. I’ve done a pretty swell job raising her, so I have to trust that she is more than capable of taking the reins on this one. Maybe I’m not included in every aspect of the planning but I won’t take offense. She wants me by her side for support, not direction.
Did she just say no suits for the groomsmen, no veil and no cake cutting? No way! Oh right, I vaguely remember my mother reacting the same way to my initial decision to tie the knot at City Hall. The picture she is painting of her special day may not be what I imagined but it’s what she wants and that’s most important. I’ll bite my tongue over her unique choice of centrepieces.
She should have booked the caterer, DJ and officiant last week. Maybe she’s had a lot on her plate. Maybe I should offer to do it for her – as per her instructions, of course.
I so badly wanted to stop her friends from hosting that terribly tacky party for her. But, I’ll let this one go. Because maybe they know a different side of my little girl than I do? I’ll wait a while before I browse those Facebook photos.
I really had the perfect dress picked out for her. But now that I’ve seen her in her choice of gown, it’s better than anything I could have imagined. And just as my mother did at my wedding, I will give her the biggest hug and send her off on a new chapter of her life – and mine.