Happy endings

My son married the woman of his dreams this past weekend. It is a story I will write about later when I have long, restful nights to ponder life and it's miracles and mysteries. Let us just say that he has loved her for a dozen years or more and even after they broke up, she was the woman of his heart and he always missed her.

But, apparently, they got back together! Oh, yes they did and on Saturday they got married and I swear I never saw 2 people so in love.



I am a cryer. I cry at sad and happy movies with little distinction between them. I cry at parades. At weddings, funerals, graduations, even when I hardly know the people. OK? Got the picture? I am freely admitting this and accepting the smirks. I was determined to keep it together during the wedding weekend so as not to embarrass my kid and to keep the wedding pictures from capturing a woman with bloodshot eyes, red swollen nose and streaked makeup. Did I mention that I don't cry pretty?

I got a lot of that emotion out in the months leading up to the big day. When Leisha sent me a picture of her dress, when they showed me the wedding invitations, yadda yadda. And then, of course, there is the rewind. This is the perview of the parents, I think, whenever your child approaches a milestone.

My memories seemed to really dig into the vault, with most of them being Billy as an infant and toddler. I could remember as if it were yesterday, his nursery, crib, the bentwood rocker so popular in the 70's. I would sing to him there. If he was cranky, it would be "Song Sung Blue" with it's happy cadence. If I was trying to get him to sleep, it was always "Sweet Baby James" except I would change it to sweet baby Bill. These memories brought tears close. Happy tears, sweet memories.

I was so young and hopeful then, everything seemed tinged by magic. But in a few years I would be a struggling single parent, hoping for the best. Thankfully, the bond between us never broke and Billy and I had and have a strong, loving relationship that is the joy of my life.

And so, I made it through the wedding needing only to dab at my eyes, no sobbing. So proud of myself. My brother's toast brought me to tears, but I controlled the flow. There was only one more hurdle. The big one. The mother/son dance. I teared up watching Leisha dance with her Dad to Billy Joel's " Lullaby". Her bond with her parents is also very very close and loving. I started taking deep, calming breaths. I could do this.

And then it was time.

"And now", the DJ said, "The groom will dance with his Mother." I took a deep breath, prepared to rise from my seat.

"The song he has chosen is 'Sweet Baby James' "