A Beautiful Weekend up North

This past weekend my daughter and I drove to New Jersey to meet up with our son and his fiancee' and her mom for a multi-purpose weekend:

1. to taste-test the food at the restaurant where we will have our rehearsal dinner
2. to scope out the wedding and reception venue
3. to see Deirdra's dress (Be still my heart! Heart-stopping gorgeous!) and to get Sarah's bridesmaid's dress ordered
4. to go to church together


Our get-together dove-tailed with their engagement picture photo shoot (which I can't wait to see).

All the food was yummy, and we sat around like Food Network critics ordering six different entrees, two different salads, some appetizers, and desserts. Naturally we shared everything till we had zero tolerance for one more bite. We narrowed our selections and are working with the owner to come up with a sort of prix fix menu. Let me say for the record, our table agreed the burger we shared six ways was the absolute best we had ever tasted. In fact, another guest came over on her way to the ladies' room and said, "When I heard you all talking about the burger, I made my husband order it! Wow, was it ever good!" The pictures in the restaurant didn't turn out, but we will definitely be making a tradition of visiting that place. (I will tell you the name of it after the wedding!) My personal favorite was a pork and apple pasty. Dee described it as "Thanksgiving in your mouth."

We went to church Sunday morning, and I needed the message. A familiar passage about the
seed falling on four different types of soil, I initially wondered if the message was going to be
"Bible lite." But far from it. The pastor asked us to take out paper and identify which of the four our own heart soil is. He also asked us to make a list of our worries, because perhaps we don't realize that worries are choking the tender plants that are trying to grow up in our hearts. Then we were to pray our worries to God and surrender them. Wow. I didn't realize until they were on paper just how many I have. Somehow writing them down and praying about them made them smaller and less frightful.

Afterward in the lobby I had one of those moments that sort of "freeze frames" in the mind . Ben had walked off to get a drink at the fountain as one of Dee's old acquaintances approached her. She was 'catching up' and asked, "Is that your hubby?" "Hubby to be, "she beamed. I don't know. It made me gulp. Dee's mom said, "And here's the mother of the hubby-to-be." I reached out my hand and said, "He was my baby just a few months ago, wasn't he?" She understood; with her was a seven-year-old son and this woman also had a 20-year-old son. The mother and I locked teary eyes for a brief moment as we guarded our emotion with nervous laughter.

An hour later we were at the wedding venue, touring the beautiful historic site, previously a church. As all the details were being handled by the bride's mom, I took the liberty to explore solo. I glanced around the grand foyer with the din of chatter behind me and thought,
"This is really happening. My baby boy...born in March...a man now... taking a wife in March... starting his own new family." I can't explain the mix of joy and sadness that welled up in an instant. Our family unit as we've always known it, going from six down to five, yet simultaneously six to seven and eight and nine ...as we embrace his bride's family and then, who knows?, maybe ten, eleven, twelve...as those baby Ben-n-Dees come along??

And I found myself wanting to cling to him, my son, my tall and handsome and responsible and funny and intelligent and strong and precious son whose birth ushered me into the sorority of mothers past, present, and future. My heart rejoices in God for the treasure of this child, this man, this hubby-to-be.

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The glorious colors of fall, and the beauty of family. What a combination!

My girl, 22






















The future Mr. & Mrs.































































































And "The Moms," one of whom is dressed in red and having an electrostatic
hair day.













A really big leaf, whose length was greater than my shoe. I wonder if the Mama Tree
watched him flutter and release himself when he found a darling little leaf to complete him?