Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Oh Mother!

Sho. It happened again. Weddings are such happy occasions to cry, and I love them for my friends’ love and friends. The kiss, the family emotions, grand music, stirring messages, fruit of hours of planning, the clothes, bubbles, flowers, and finally the raised glasses sparkling with joy, albeit losing miserably when compared to the radiance of the bride, all take my breath away.



The other thing that takes my breath away is “mingling.” I have indeed been accused by my sister of either being entirely too Southern for our Northwestern customs, or of making friends as copiously as a grinning four-year-old. I will not apologize for loving conversation and human beings. (Thank you very much.) However, there is a line I draw.



Right. OK. Yes, the men. I do know about some men and their eyes and activities at weddings and that’s a firm line drawn when we make eye contact. But then there’s another line. I emphatically must learn to draw a line with some Mothers because it happened again.



To avoid redundancy by duplicating my writing again about the same event, I now included this anecdotal evidence as pasted below: an excerpt from a letter to my friend just a couple months ago.



… Evidence that even well-meaning…mothers can be creepy almost as well as [certain] McDonald's employees. No facts have been altered, except the name of the "precious" woman has been removed.



Weddings are a time when mothers apparently scan the placid, sleepy audiences with fantasy glowing deep within their breast and gleaming fiercely out their eyes. They imagine their proud and noble son at the altar with, yes, THAT girl over there, walking towards him in white. Yes, she is the one. Although still fueled by impossible levels of fantasy, the eyes now glow in a different manner. The planning mode has engaged and the doe-eyed innocent is approached. What appears to be casual conversation between once-strangers ensues. However, if the said doe-eyed innocent is conscious of her surroundings, she quickly becomes warily aware that this random conversant is propelled by something larger than life:  instinct bordering on arachnid. Try as she might to handle the situation cordially, the young maiden must rely on her own instinct bordering on "flight or fight" to escape. All is now well.



Time passes and the young female decides she read far too much into the kindness displayed by a genuinely good woman. Then she answers the telephone in her own safe home one morning.

"Hello, my dear! Its Mrs. __ from the wedding!!"

"Hello, maam. I hope you are doing well... (Sundry pleasantries)"

"I wanted to tell you that I know more about you than you know!"

"Oh? Is that a good thing, maam?" replies the younger female, her throat tightening strangely.

"Oh yes! I Googled you last night! And I've talked to several people about you! Would you like to go out for coffee soon?"

"Google is very handy, isn't it? (:\) I appreciate your offer, maam, however, I have been keeping a pretty tight schedule lately, and I don't believe that would work anytime soon."

"Oh yes! That's what I hear, too! My friends all told me you might say that. Well, actually, Sweetheart, today I just wanted to ask why you don't have a boyfriend?"

"*abrupt coughing sounds* Excuse me, sorry about that. Well, the truth is, maam, I scare men away in general." replies the younger female evasively. Her eyes dilate widely and she wishes a timer would buzz, a pot overflow, a child scream in the background, a workman pound at the door, her sister need stitches, the phone release jarring shock waves...

"Oh yes! I used to do that, too!! Especially when I didn't wear makeup. But you're... (Goes off onto an embarrassing list of descriptors)...and I'm so glad I got your number! I know a young man who would not be afraid of all that. Yes. That's for sure. My son is special."

"IS that so? (O_o) Well, that's...unusual. Please excuse me, maam, but I really need to go."  (This is a pot overflowing all on its own, time to yank it off the burner.)

"Oh yes! Certainly. But I wanted to let you know I have my eyes on you and you’re not getting away. I love you, Sweetie."

"Thank you? *accidental laughter* Have a pleasant afternoon. Goodbye."

"Bye, Love!"



More time passes and the young female gets off the floor, sighs, and realizes she did not read too much into the "kindness" displayed by a genuinely strange woman. In fact, she realizes, she would prefer to take on the mulatto rapper at McD's any day, even with his claims to fame in…





This is where I was going to insert some pithy Scripture passages in this blog post on “weeping and gnashing of teeth” and the like, but it seemed to be out of context while being entirely in context. Not being one to mangle Scripture, I will place this moral in your hands instead.

“I, being in The Way, God led me.”

God uses Mothers: He uses mine in my life every day. But ought we to double-check, Moms and everyone, so it’s not “A person, being in my way, God could not lead me”? Let us all let God direct clearly, without conjuring our will into His plan.

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