My son said “I do” on Nov. 9, and with those two words and the string of poetic words spoken by a trusted friend and justice of the peace, my son’s life changed – and, surprisingly, so did mine.
It was a beautiful wedding, a gathering of family and friends to celebrate and honor two people who had made the decision to join their lives in marriage.
Beauty and inspiration were indeed everywhere, radiating from the lovely couple, shining on everyone lucky enough to be in their presence.
Sometimes the love pledged between two souls is invisible to the naked eye, but on a night like this, it shined brightly for all to see and became no less than a magic wand.
I believe weddings are the tangible proof that love does indeed rule our lives, like it or not. This wedding provided in neon lights, an element of hope, even for those who are hard pressed to believe in hope anymore.
Watching my son with his woman, now his wife, was a joy to be sure, but it was also a bit disconcerting.
The happiness bubbling over, drizzling all over us like fairy dust was what I needed to see, needed to feel. Every parent does. We want to know this decision, this love, this wedding, is indeed, the perfect culmination of all the dates, events and encounters that preceded it.
But while I watched the ceremony and listened to the vows, there was a piece of me that became somewhat uncomfortable, even scared. I realized that in addition to the changes his life would undergo, I myself was going to go through a change. It just never ever ends, this change business, does it?
I felt it most intensely when my son took my hand for the mother-son dance. I don’t remember the words to the song. All I remember is his face, his eyes. I know the song had words like “You’ll always be my loving son,” but I didn’t hear much of anything else. I was too intent on sharing this emotional connection that, in a matter of moments, would be broken. This was my two minutes with him.
Just as his bride’s father, who had had his two minutes with his “little girl,” dancing to “Butterfly Kisses,” now it was my turn to say, “Take this gift I offer you, which has only been on loan to me. Love it, cherish it, respect it and make it yours.”
My heart was so full of love for him, and I promised myself I would not display the emotions I felt. This was his day, her day, not mine. But, if the truth be told, it was quite difficult not to break that promise to myself.
As he slowly moved me around the dance floor, he looked down at me and said, “Dad’s here. I know it.”
He knew I was not only feeling the changes in my relationship with him, but also feeling the loss of his father, who had passed away a little over a year ago, the father he so wanted to be with him on this very special day. And no matter how much joy filled that room, a void tugged at his heart – at all our hearts.
“I know,” I replied quietly.
Time stopped for a moment, and it was as if we were the only people in that room. The guests, the exquisite crystal chandeliers, fine ivory linens, china plates and glasses filled with champagne seemed to briefly fade away.
“It’s so good to see you so happy,” I said.
He smiled down at me. “I am happy, Ma,” he said, then added, “I’ve grown up.”
“Yes, you have, Honey,” I said. I felt a momentary stillness as I imagined
a blade slicing through what once was – the kind that cuts so quickly and cleanly, you hardly realize it’s happened until you see what you’ve done, like the samurai sword Kevin Costner used to slice Whitney Houston’s silk scarf in “The Bodyguard.”
It was difficult not to let my feelings show, and this dance was my testing ground.
I’d previously written a column on my son’s pre-wedding dinner, focusing on saying goodbye to the little boy I remembered, but this night was different. I was no longer remembering the little boy of my own youth, I was dealing with accepting the son who had indeed become a man, taking on the responsibility of a family of his own.
This night required me, in a way, to say goodbye to the adult man. I don’t believe our mother-son bond will ever be broken, but a subtle, almost imperceptible shift took place on that dance floor between the two of us. I felt the layers of that silk scarf separate and fall away, bringing with it both joy and an inevitable sadness at the changes life brings, like it or not.
I felt my eyes fill up, but just a little. Being in a fish bowl does limit how much one can display.
I embraced the last few minutes of our tender time together. I gently took his face in my hands – an intimate gesture that would normally make him uncomfortable. But on this very special night, he allowed me to be the mom of his youth – one more time.
Like a slow-motion movie, I let those silken strands fall away and accepted another change.
The music ended. The next phase of the wedding took place, and although part of me wanted to stay the “ma” of his youth, the smarter part of me passed the torch to my new daughter-in-law – with love and hopefully, with grace, grateful that my son had found a soul mate, lover, companion and best friend, which are all pretty wonderful things, as I remember.
Clare Marie Celano is a staff writer for Greater Media Newspapers. She can be reached at [email protected].