Wednesday, April 16, 2014


Sadly, this post is not about wine, though I do love wineJ It’s really about bottling up feelings. And no, it’s not a rant, so you are safe.

I don’t cry often. And when I do cry, it’s usually over stupid things and when it’s a crisis or important, I don’t cry much, or I don’t allow myself to let it out until after the crisis has passed (i.e. Mom’s stroke, etc.). I can cry at the drop of a hat though over a cheezy movie (like the end of “50 First Dates” OMG. Gets me every time). And in my younger days, I used to cry a lot. Do you remember when Sophie said, “Do you ever feel like you need a goodcry?” It *can* be cathartic.

Sophie even said to me one time, “I don’t even KNOW if I’ve ever seen you cry.” I’m not sure if that’s true, or maybe she doesn’t remember, but then again I can’t really think of a time when I know I for sure did, in front of her. I remember thinking the same of my mom. And I remember being a teenager and feeling like my mom “didn’t allow me to express my feelings” because she would always get mad at me when I cried at E.R. (which was like, every episode). Well, she didn’t get *mad* but she would say something like, “Quiet down, I can’t hear the show!”

Oh wait, I remember: I *have* teared up at one of Sophie’s teeny-bobby movies; Geek Charming it was. Not sure WHAT was going on with me then; maybe PMS.

Anyway, I do the same to Sophie a lot because she is very sensitive and cries over everything. If I criticize her for any reason. If I say, “Watch your attitude; you are getting sassy.” If we don’t put the correct tree topper on, etc. I can’t wait til hormones play into this sensitivity. God help me. So often I do to her what my mom did to me: “Calm down; it’s nothing to cry about; get yourself together; that’s enough now…” What can I say? I just want to ensure she has something to talk about with her future therapist and “My mother forced me to repress my feelings” sounds as good as anything. (As if that’s possible with Sophie, Miss Dramatic and Expressive).

Moving on; this really was supposed to be about ME.

In church last Sunday, Palm Sunday, Sophie had her first communion. That wasn’t what made me cry though it is a milestone.
We have a group of 5th-8th graders who are called the “clown troupe” and they put on skits. Now I HATE clowns. But they aren’t scary clowns with the big red noses. They DO paint their faces in white makeup and put accent colors on their face (since we’re in church, often it’s a cross on the cheek or something). Clowns don’t talk. So as soon as the makeup goes on, they don’t talk. So they were ready for the skit during social/snack time (before service) and couldn’t talk. Sophie, bless her, asked me: “Does the makeup make them not talk, or are they just not talking because they have it on?” I explained to her about “staying in character” and that no, it wasn’t magic makeup (though makeup that makes you not talk could be put on others heheJ)
Anyway, these kids – they ARE kids – re-enacted the passion of the Christ in their very own way, with beautiful music in the background, changing according to the scene they were doing and OH WOW. I can’t…I can’t even describe it. It was AMAZING. They are SO talented. I don’t know why, but the play just really GOT ME and I teared up and then the tears started coming down and I was sniffling and patting my eyes with a tissue and…and then I had to self-talk to get myself together because – and here was my original point when I started this post – since I *don’t* cry often, I feel like when I start, I can’t stop – I can’t turn it off; the tears have been waiting to come out – over what? It doesn’t matter. Stress about Summar’s health; happiness over my amazing kids; sadness over my aging parents; whatever.

I did get myself together though. I didn’t like, SOB, though I have done that before in church; in movie theaters; definitely alone in my bedroom from time to time; also while reading “A Walk to Remember” by Nicholas Sparks back in 2000 (SOBBING at that one, actually.)

Anyway, I went to the restroom to check out my puffy eyes after the play was done and I saw Mya – one of Sophie’s very favorite 8th graders – a very sweet girl – and she had her head sticking out of one of the back rooms and I put my hand to my heart and she did the same and smiled. She knew what I was saying. It was “you got me” and “thank you.” (She played Jesus).

Afterward, a lot of people said that it was the best Palm Sunday ever. And even Grandma Sue (Jamie’s mom, who was there to witness Sophie’s first communion) told me later that it really got to her as well.

We were standing up there for the communion recognition; Sophie holding my hand on one side and her dad’s on the other – and she looked up at me as I was still dabbing my eyes with the tissue – and said, “Mom, are you crying?” I nodded and squeaked out a “yes.” Sophie: “Wow.” (I had been crying since the play but I guess she hadn’t been paying attention to me for only noticing 15min. later).

I think she was astonished to witness my tears. She was probably thinking, “Hey, my mom does cry, after all. Who knew?”

Tuesday, April 08, 2014

March 8, 2014 - Reception

It’s our one-month anniversary! Whoohoo! So far so good. Only 40-some more years to go! (That seems totally doable).

But before we get to the reception – If I can even remember it at this point (no, not because I was drunk but because I’m old and forgetful) – first my parents hosted a Friday night pre-wedding celebration/pizza party for my mom’s side of the family. It was at my parents’ house which was nice because some of my mom’s family hadn’t yet been. And my parents, just last summer (?), put in a grand waterfall/pond/bridge/patio which was nice to look at and created atmosphere. And it wasn’t cold enough that the kids didn’t mind going out there before it got too dark to throw pebbles down the waterfall, from the top. (Luckily nobody was hit!)

There was wine and beer and pizza and salad and relatives. Some whom I was very happy to see and some to whom I just said a quick hello. Summar & Sapphire were there of course and so was my friend Kim from Cali and my friend Amy from church just because she and my parents have a mutual affection for each other.

It was busy and there were lots of mini-groups chatting and I didn’t get to spend as much time with some of them as I would have liked, but I was very happy for the evening all in all. The children were…well, somewhere. I don’t know. Mine are 9 so I just let them be; I wasn’t really paying attention. The parents of toddlers were watching out for their own, which is good, esp. since my parent’s house is nowhere close to being childproof. At one point there was lots of banging on the piano and I looked down and told them to stop and Amy said, “I hope it wasn’t mine.” And I said, “No, it was one of mine.” And my cousin Jessica said, “Sophie?!” And I said “No, Ethan.” She’s newly married and young and expecting so maybe she doesn’t get the blended family yes-he’s-one-of-mine now thing. Or maybe she just assumed Sophie since she was my first and I’m reading too much into it. Sophie wouldn’t have been banging on the piano anyway. Either way, I pumped my fist and said, “Yes! It was one of mine; I won!” I was trying to be funny which usually fails. I am mostly only funny on occasion when I don’t mean to be. Like when I made baby Brookie cry. Ok, that’s not funny, but she’s 2 and I’ve never made a kid cry before – they usually love me. I felt bad and escaped to re-pour my wine because wine solves everything. Luckily Kim & Brian (and I guess Brooklyn too) forgave me.

Cousin Jessica is expecting her first baby and I’m super excited for her. She is teeny tiny and was nearly ½ way through her pregnancy but still you could barely tell she had a bump at all; I look like that normally. She said that no matter what the baby turned out to be, the name would begin with “L” but she was keeping that a secret. So naturally we were all trying to guess.
“Leto?” (She used to be obsessed with the actor Jared Leto)
Then my friend Amy, who is hilarious, said, “Ah! I’ve got it: Luscious.” Then we talked about how there’s only one career choice for that type of name and you can guess what it is.
We’ve since found out Jessica & Max are having a girl. I’m still calling her Luscious. They call her “Little L.” I win.

Hilarious Amy almost made me LITERALLY pee my pants that night. She said, “I’d like to give a toast at your wedding. I will say, ‘And may the odds be ever in your favor.’ [from Hunger Games]. Could you imagine??! Worst. Toast. Ever.” It’s much funnier when she says shit especially because she has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. That’s one of the reasons why I love her.

Jeff mingled fine on his own and poor Summar had to explain and re-explain on multiple occasions about her and Sapphire’s treatments. That’s a whole other post but basically most people didn’t realize that metastatic = no cure = forever in treatment, for the rest of your life. And as for Sapphire, she continues treatment until November of this year. “But you guys look so good!” they would say. And they did and they do. But that’s what sucks about Cancer. It eats you from the inside out. You can still look healthy and feel healthy before you are diagnosed and it’s breeding in your body, multiplying, and you don’t even know it. You can still be in treatment but maybe aren’t in the early days of chemo and so you have all of your hair and you’re not currently throwing up so people assume you are “fine.” It’s just an education process, I guess.
Well, enough of that. On to happier things.

Okay, so reception.
People didn’t dance as much as I had hoped, but that’s ok. Sophie and Jeff’s sister Jane were out there quite a bit – I saw Sophie literally go to Jane’s table and drag her onto the dance floor. Brookie was on the dance floor the.entire.night.long. She is freakin’ adorable and never stopped and Kim is screwed because she is a mini-KimJ
Because we didn’t do the traditional stuff like garter toss, bouquet toss, father-daughter dance, it seemed like people were starting to leave early. But once you ate, and drank enough, and you’re ‘old’ (because we’re old so old people were there as opposed to my first wedding where we danced all night long and there was swing dancing and broken heels and broken dress straps and broken feet and it was like a big college party since a great number of us were only 22-24) I guess that’s it; you go home and to bed. Or, if you have little ones who need to go to bed. (Not Brookie! You couldn’t DRAG her from the dance floor if you tried).
Sapphire and Brookie dancing
Jeff and I had one dance, where we invited the married couples out on the floor, and I like this photo:
Our dance
Sophie too was on the dance floor the entire night; shoes off, socks off, no tights; playing her own pretend game, in her own little world; stepping on the lights the DJ put up on the floor. She would ask me to dance, then ignore me [not meanly, just wanted to go back to her game] and hop from place to place, the only one out there sometimes and had not a care in the world. If she’s always this way, I will feel thankful.

The DJ – per Sophie’s request – DID play “Favorite Things” from Sound of Music because this line: Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes is the entire reason she picked out that dress.

Sophie kept coming up to me and asking, “Mommy, are you having fun at your wedding??” And I smiled and told her Yes, because it was the truth.

I caught Sophie at one point chasing Ethan around the reception room, trying to get him on the dance floor. He refused Sophie but when Sapphire asked him to dance, he did. One of the most touching moments of the night and although I tried 3x, I only got a blurry photo, or ones of them NOT looking at the camera.

The rest of the time Jeff and I were trying to make our way to each table – I felt bad for those sitting in the front of the room (which was now the back, since we were sitting near the bar [per Jeffrey’s request] and we had to work our way UP) – because people were dispersing by the time we got to them.

I do remember eating and my back was to the buffet line and people kept talking to me but I couldn’t really twist around because I had on a freakin’ corset. We got many compliments on the food. I had brought Sophie left over pizza from Friday night and the chef warmed it up for her and brought it out on a fancy plate and everything:) Although I didn’t eat much AT ALL (the bride never does, right?), afterward I was like, “OMG somebody loosen this dress!” but I was told, “No. Go get some wine, you’ll feel better in an hour.” And I did. I could breathe again by then.

Everyone kept telling me how great my mom looked and I agree.

We had a reserved table near the bar for me, Jeff, the kids, my parents, Jeff’s mom, and then there was an empty spot for my Dad. At first he sat with my mom’s siblings (I’m sure they were thrilled) and then I said, “We need to tell Dad to come up here.” And my mom goes “NO!” And I go, “Yes.” So he did and well, I already told you the things he said (or rather, didn’t say). I didn’t see him eat the entire time and I think I’ve mentioned that he often throws up after he eats. Jeff wonders if he has an eating disorder. Jeff’s mom was actually over this past Saturday (along with my parents) and she told me that my dad was sitting right next to her, and she tried to talk to him, but he kept looking around all bored and distracted and didn’t appear interested in a thing she had to say. So then I had to apologize on behalf of my dad and it made me even madder because Betty is a sweet 82-year old Grandma; what’s not to love? It’s not as if my dad himself has tantalizing conversations. Ugh.

Enough of that; moving on.

I was SO excited to see the room. Since you know, I had a picture of how it would look in my mind, and I had no doubt that Megan, my banquet center contact, would do a fantastic job setting it all up, but I couldn’t wait to see it all come together. Of course, I didn’t really get to see it until after I sat down. Then I took a look around and was pleased.
Room set up, at the front, no up lighting affects here

The blue “up lighting” really set the room’s atmosphere, but it made for some funky-colored pictures.

I LOVED my cake, and I thought the centerpieces turned out great (Megan had given me the idea).

All in all I was pleased. I had little blue bags of Hershey kisses set out at each place setting as the favors and by the end of the night Ethan and all of his cousins were collecting all the un-touched ones off of every table and stringing them together to take home. Well, it kept them busy and relatively out of trouble at least:)
I LOVE this picture because it is like we are each saying, “Are you going to be nice? I’ll be nice if you’ll be nice. But you don’t know if I’ll be nice…” But neither of us smashed the cake in each other’s faces. We WERE nice.
Jeff was super excited to make our big entrance but I was crabby because I just wanted to go in and get this party started and then the DJ didn’t pump the music up loud enough and before people were still coming in and I was practically shoving them inside so it was kind of eh.

Summar did a toast and I was really thankful for that – I don’t think she expected, necessarily, to do it before we ate but she kept it short and sweet and thankfully I didn’t even cry (I hardly ever do when it’s important – only over stupid shit).

Jeff’s family took a big photo and I wish us from my mom’s side had done the same with at least those of us who were there but oh well. I got some nice photos with my Cali friends and stuff. When Jeff’s family invited me and Sophie over for a girls-only photo though, Sophie got right in front – Jeff’s mom was sitting in a chair in the center of the photo (as it should be) and Sophie grabs her hand to hold. I love that girl, and you can never have too many grandmas, that’s for sure:)

Summar & Sapphire made it through the reception FAR longer than I ever expected them to. I swear, Summar can RALLY. I don’t know how she does it. Tom took them home but neither my mom nor Sophie wanted to go so he had to come back to get them. Party Girls!!

Our table of neighbors was surprisingly well-behaved (for them) until the end when everyone (at our urging) started taking the center pieces which were EACH filled with 12 gallons of water beads. Well, you can imagine the disaster that was on the shuttle ride home and when we finally arrived at the hotel (the last ones out of the reception hall, naturally), we saw the evidence. The poor shuttle driver was sweeping them up from the pull-up curb in front of the hotel. Jeff apologized to him for his drunk friends.

Brookie holding a cup of water beads which she held on to all night and did not stick in her mouth or try to eat after she was told they were not to eat; instead she stuck her hand inside the cup while moving to the music because they feel squishy and awesome. (think Orbeez soothing spa)]
What is funny though is that my friends Jackie & Jeff walked back into the reception hall and it was only me and Jeff left, with the owner of the banquet center helping to make sure we got everything we wanted to take. And they were like, “Well, the shuttle is full. We called for another but we need to wait…” and Jeff’s like, “Fuck that, you’re coming with us.” So that was actually kind of fun because we all got to chat a bit more. We got our stuff upstairs, changed our clothes (I couldn’t wait to get out of my dress, even though I loved it), and went back down for 1-2 more drinks. It was a small crowd – most had already tucked themselves in for the night.

Jeff was over at a table talking to his friend Kyle while I was at the bar paying for his drink and the guys next to me said, “Did you just get one drink?”
And I thought they were asking like, “Hey loser, don’t you know how to party? Why are you quitting after just one?” And in my head, I was like, “Dude, it’s fucking after midnight. I should be a pumpkin by now.” Or I considered, “Maybe they are trying to flirt with me? My husband (!) is RIGHT THERE!”
So I said, “Yeah, just one. It’s been a long, event-filled day; I’m done.” And they said, “No, what I mean is, ‘Are you only having one drink’?” and they bought it for me because I had just gotten married and they said “congratulations” and they were attending a wedding there at the hotel which had just finished up and we saw the bride just before we hopped in the elevator and we shared congrats.

That was really nice.

I slept well that night. I slept hard. Soundly, but happily. J

What’s your favorite wedding memory? Either of your own, or one you attended?

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

March 8, 2014 - Ceremony

All in all, we had a wonderful wedding. Sophie did a beautiful reading and wasn’t nervous at all. She stumbled a bit at the beginning with reading the chapter and verse but carried on nicely without hesitation. I received many compliments on her voice steadiness and projection. Yes, she is made for the stage.

When I read at my parents’ wedding, I was the same age as her but more nervous. And in the middle of my reading, my cousin David who was 5 at the time, shouted out, “Mom, did you know Farrell could READ?”

Ethan’s job was to walk Jeff’s mom down the aisle, then my mom. It’s a very short aisle. He did so with pride. I love how he’s looking up at my mom here; my parents are so happy to have another grandchild to spoil.
Ethan’s job was also to deliver the rings to the Pastor at the appointed moment. When that moment came, and Pastor asked, “Do you have the rings?” Ethan stood up, put out his hands, and shrugged his shoulders as in ‘what, nobody gave them to me?’ Well nobody will ever forget our ceremony for that. It broke the tension and we all laughed and Summar saved the day by going in the back where we were getting ready to procure the rings. In the meantime Pastor told a bad joke and Ethan was thinking really hard for one as well. For me and Jeff, it released any nervous tension we had. He was more nervous than I and I kept asking him, whispering on the altar, “Are you okay?” And he was like, “Yeah, why?” and I told him later it looked as if he was holding his breath. He said, “Don’t say that; just say, ‘breathe.’” But after Ethan’s adorable folly (am I suddenly in the 19th Century? Folly?), we all relaxed. Some guests even thought we had planned that little incident!
My other favorite part was the unity candle and Miss Sarah singing. I wish someone recorded our ceremony because I was too busy worrying about where to go to really, truly hear her beautiful voice, which Sophie says is like an angel. In fact—later at the reception, Sophie told Miss Sarah, “Every time you sing, I picture a halo above your head” to which she received a big hug and kiss for that compliment. I heard from some guests that there were many dabbing their eyes during this part of the ceremony.
I hadn’t realized this when it happened but I love how Sophie is covering her eyes when Jeff and I finally get to do our kiss.
I was proud to have Tom, my step-dad, walk me down the aisle. How different (and WAY better!) this time around was. Obviously age, security in knowing I’m making the right decision and maturity play a big part. During my first walk down the aisle, when I was just a “baby” at 23, I had my step-dad and dad on either side of me – two stocky Irish men – and it looked like they were literally DRAGGING me down the aisle. In hindsight, perhaps they were. This time around, I was relaxed and all smiles. I had to tell Tom to slooow down; the man who moves slower than molasses normally was racing to the “finish line.”
When the Pastor asked, “Who gives this young lady away” or whatever he said, Tom goes, “I do…and her Mother” which received chuckles. We all know Grandma is the boss!:) Yes it’s an old fashioned practice and kind of silly considering I’m supposedly a legitimate grown up, but he wanted to do it and although he may not be my dad by blood, he is my dad in every other way.

Sophie had asked me, “Are Grandma and Grandpa happy that you are getting married to Jeffy?” And I said, “I think so.” And she said, “Well, because they don’t really say anything.” But standing there, waiting to be walked down, Tom told me, “I’m much more excited about this wedding than I was the last.” And later, the morning after, at brunch at my mom’s house, I was standing behind her at the kitchen table and she reached up and I reached down and she squeezed my hand. And that little gesture meant more to me than words, even if my mom did have her words.

It was comforting to be married in “my” church. I felt at home and proud to show it off. The first time, we just kind of picked a church. I received many compliments on Pastor Jared’s homily and it was nice because he knows me so well. He talked about how this probably wasn’t the path that Jeff and I would have chosen; we have gone through pains [i.e. divorce] before, on our own, but in the end we had ended up right where we belong – there, standing on the altar together. Of course, he said it much more eloquently than I.

Just before the unity candle ceremony, when Sarah (the Pastor’s wife) started singing, we presented gifts to the children. I presented a necklace, engraved and “manly,” to Ethan, and Jeff presented an engraved bracelet and jewelry box to Sophie, who is much more demonstrative than Ethan (you don’t say!:)) and jumped up to hug Jeff immediately.
But I know Ethan equally appreciated/liked his gift because he immediately put his necklace on and kept it on for the remainder of the day.
Although I know Sophie read the card Jeff gave her; I’m not sure if Ethan ever read mine. Oh well.

Summar was such an integral part of my day and it made me so happy. Really, I couldn’t have done it without her. Not only did she “save the day” with the rings, I have many pictures of her “looking up my skirt” (not really) as she helped me dress at the church. She even put my garter on for me, and you can see my blue shoes!:)
This is one of my favs, even though you can see my eye wrinkles. I just love the sisterhood and tenderness.
Summar also helped me calm down that morning when I was rushing and rushing and fretting and she reminded me to slooow down and breathe.

Just breathe.

Afterward, we went to sign the marriage license and my mom and Tom signed as witnesses. And Pastor said it wasn’t the “real” marriage license; he had to sign it and send it in to the county and then they would send the REAL one. And I said, “So it’s not official yet? We can still get out of it? This is our last chance? RUUUUN!!!”
I was kidding of course! I have no intention of ever “getting out of it.”!:)

I am blessed.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

We Swam with Dolphins!

Our honeymoon was FANTASTIC - no complaints!
More later; still playing catch up at work.
Still have cute stories about ceremony/reception too that I need to write down/share before I forget.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

I Will Never Understand This Guy

I did not let my dad ruin my day but his behavior is beyond baffling to me, and I need to get it out. Once I get this out, we’ll go back to the joy stories.

First, my dad did not tell me that he was coming for sure until Tuesday, i.e. until four days before the wedding. First he wanted to stay at my house which I thought great, he can watch the dog. Because Ethan was going to his cousins and my parents were taking Summar, Sapphire and Sophie home with them. (We hated to split up the kids but that’s where they were most comfortable and it all worked out in the end). Plus our neighbors who usually watch our dog were staying at the hotel, as were we, so that they could party and be safe.

Then my dad was too cheap to rent a car so he asked to borrow Jeffrey’s. Jeff said fine. Then he started talking about the hotel and I said well I thought you were going to stay here – nobody is going to be here – it would save you $100 and help us out by watching the dog. And he acted all offended or put out or something.

Then my dad called when he landed and said his GPS wasn’t working and he needed directions from the airport so I gave the phone to Jeff. Then as we were all eating lunch together – this is the morning of my wedding day, right? So it’s my hairdresser/makeup artist/friend Angie, Summar, Sapphire, Sophie, my parents, Jeff & Ethan – my dad calls and starts YELLING at me. “I’M ON LINDBERGH AND 40 WHERE THE HELL DO I GO?” And I said, “Well, did Jeff tell you to get on 40?”
Dad: No
Me: Then why did you go that way?
Dad: Because the sign said St. Louis and you live in St. Louis
Stupidest answer ever. He’s from Jersey right? So if he’s trying to get into the city, what, he just takes any road that says “New York”? He could end up in Manhattan or Yonkers or White Plains.
So then I tried to tell him how to go and he keeps YELLING at me – literally yelling – and I shout back, “You know what Dad? You are not being helpful right now. I am trying to help you and you are not listening. Get off the road and pull over to a gas station and get directions.”
And I hang up angrily which is kind of hard to do with a cell phone.

And after his little temper tantrum I realize that I can and have acted just like him with little fits of my own, and I realized where I got it from, and I was ashamed.

So then he comes in as I’m getting my makeup done – my hair is already done; it’s down and in loose curls and it’s pretty. And he literally says – the first thing he says to me on the morning of my wedding day is: “Hey. Where can I put my stuff?”

Then at some point he mentions how he was up at 4am – like ‘look what big sacrifices I made to get here, waking up before dawn’ – and I mention I was up at 6.

So Angie finishes with everyone and naturally we are running late because it’s inevitable right? I’m not in my dress yet – I will get dressed at the church. Jeff & Ethan go to pick up his BIL/our photographer and then the rest of us girls pile into Papa’s van.

Summar was the last one in the van and when she comes in, she said, “Your dad just said to me, ‘Oh I’m only here to watch the dog.’”
That pissed me off.
I sent him a text. “Dad, you are not only here to watch the dog. But if that’s how you feel, you can stay at the hotel – I have a backup plan. I was offering up my house to save you money.”
He writes back, “It doesn’t look like there is any room. I still see that people in Calif don’t pick up on sarcasm.”
It was one of those things were people say something that is true and then when you act offended about it, they say, “Oh I was only joking.” But really, they meant what they said.
Then we had a discussion in the van about not letting him ruin my day and at that point I was pretty much done with him.

I didn’t see my dad at the ceremony but you know how it is – I didn’t see much of anything because I was focused on my husband to be and my kids and my parents:) I know he was there though; Jeff told me later. He didn’t stick around at all when the ceremony ended. We were taking pictures and stuff because like I said, we were running late, and didn’t have a chance to do so before-hand as was the original plan.

So literally the very first thing he says to me at the reception – the first thing – after I’m in my beautiful dress, all made up, on my wedding day – he says:
Hey. I was only joking about that comment.
I had some time to kill [between ceremony and reception] so I went and played Keno and won $100.
Then, to Jeff:
My nephew – you can look up his stats on the Internet and see where he’s ranked for football – he’s really good and may get drafted.
He’s all proud of his nephew but doesn’t know my son’s name

Then I get a text after dinner from our neighbor girl/Sophie’s babysitter who I had asked to check on the dog and let her out as I knew it would be a while she was home alone, and she has a peeing issue. The text says, “Do you want me to close your garage door?” Which means my dad left it open.
So I find him and say, “Dad, why did you leave the garage door open?”
Dad: I didn’t know how to close it.
Me [a bit angrily]: You push the button.
Dad: Well nobody gave me instructions.

I was – and had already been – so so so done with him.

I went to my friends Jackie and Becky. And I was like, “I don’t care what you have to do but you have GOT to find a way to sneak me out of here so I can have a cigarette as I just had another conversation with my father and it’s been 8 hours since my last smoke and I am going to blow up.” And Jackie asked, “What happened?” And I told her, “I literally can’t talk about it or I will fume.” So those girls made it happen because they are awesome.

Then – I don’t even know what time it was. 8:30 maybe? Two hours after the reception had started? And my dad comes up to me and says, “Hey, how do I get back to your house?”
And I say, “Are you leaving?”
And he says, “Yeah, in a bit.”
And in my head I was like, “What a relief.”

So he came back and said: “So all I have to do is let the dog out before bed, right?”
Me: Yes, but you have to let her out back, where there is a fence. Not in front, or she’ll run away.
Dad: Okay.
I thought I should add that since you know, he apparently needs explicit instructions on everything.
He said goodbye to me.

He never once said I looked pretty.
He never once said “Congratulations.”

At the banquet center where we held the reception, there are two ballrooms. We were in one and in the other that night there was a fundraiser thing for a school. So I saw some people in the bathroom and passing in the halls and every single person said, “You are a beautiful bride.” Or “I love your dress.” Or “You look gorgeous.” The point is, I got more compliments from complete strangers than I did from my own father. Which wasn’t hard to do because I got exactly NOTHING from him.

He is an empty shell of a person. He has ZERO social skills. He lacks empathy. He has the maturity of a five year old.

I don’t know why he bothered to come, unless he couldn’t take the shame of his family asking him why he didn’t go to his daughter’s wedding.

The next day, Jeff told me I should call my dad to check on the dog. So I did. And he blabbed a bit and said dog was fine. Our real plan was to pick up Ethan at his cousin’s, then go to my mom’s for breakfast. I didn’t tell dad that. We were already in the car on the way to get Ethan and I acted like we were just getting up. Jeff said, “I feel kind of bad, but not really. What time’s his flight?”
Me: 4pm.
Jeff: Guarantee you he gets on an earlier flight.
Me: Good riddance.

We all enjoyed a nice long breakfast at my mom’s and Bobby (Tom’s nephew) and Malea (his wife) were there too which was great. Tom had to take a carful back to our house because we couldn’t all fit in Jeff’s. My wedding dress took up half the backseat.

We get to my house and my dad is in his suit, cell phone in hand.

He says something nonsensical; I’m not sure what as I didn’t pay attention. Actually he is standing there blabbing on and on and literally there are four adults trying to unpack two cars worth of stuff and he’s still standing there blabbing along and I finally look at him and say, “Dad! Do you mind helping us unload here?” Which he did.

And then he left. At like noon for a 4pm flight when we live 10min. from the airport.
He told Jeff his flight was at 2:30.
So either I was wrong or Jeff called it and he got on an earlier flight.
All I know is that he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.
Good riddance.

I talked to Jeff about it and he said, “I would really like to talk to a psychologist about that guy. It’s fascinating. I mean, did something HAPPEN to him? Like, in his childhood or something, that made him this way?”
Me: No. He’s just an asshole. A shallow shell of a person. Just a body walking around, taking up space.
Jeff: I mean, are his siblings normal?
Me: They are more normal than my mom’s siblings. I LOVE my Uncle Richie. He’s awesome; great guy.
Jeff: Have you ever thought of calling up your Uncle Richie and being like, “Hey, I’m trying to figure this guy out?”
Summar & I had the same conversation and the conclusion was that according to my mom, my dad has always been this way. So we figured it wouldn’t solve anything by talking to Uncle Richie.

Listen. I’m well aware of who my dad is. And I did not expect much. In fact, I was hoping he wouldn’t show up. And now that he did I’m thinking, why did he bother? But it’s really not hard to say “You look nice” and it’s not hard to say “Congratulations.” At the minimum, that’s what strangers say, so why can’t my dad? Even in his card, he simply wrote “dad” and nothing else.
He couldn’t even WRITE “Congratulations.”

So now the only question is: Let it go? Or say something to him? Neither of which will change who he is. And if I do choose to say something I don’t even want to get mad about it. I simply want to tell him, “Dad, I do not understand why you could not even bring yourself to say ‘Congratulations.’”
But I probably will get mad at him. Because it’s ridiculous.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014


Precious moments, funny stories, cuteness, and joy to follow in the coming days, along with more photos. For now, just a couple of photos taken by attendees – my heart is filled with love, warmth, joy and happiness!

March 8, 2014