What’s a Mother to Do?

“I don’t understand this at all,” Bernice fumed.  “What do you mean you hired a wedding planner and the wedding will be held in DC?  Scarsdale is your home.  A mother is supposed to plan the wedding.  This is so irregular, Eden, and so unfeeling.  All your friends are here.”

“Mom, all your friends are there. My friends are in DC.  Both Steve and I work in DC.  I should think you’d appreciate the burden being lifted from your shoulders.”

“I’ve been waiting for this all my life!”

Eden didn’t say anything for a long time, and Bernice wondered if she had hung up on her own mother.  But no.  “Mom.  It’s settled.  Please don’t ruin this for me.  Steve and I will be up there as soon as we can arrange it. Okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.  None of this is okay.”

“I have to go now, Mom.  Work.”  And then she did hang up.

Bernice had to admit it.  She was distraught.  Why did no one understand her feelings?  Riley thought Eden was doing exactly the right thing—for her.  She relayed the information that Steve’s mother wasn’t happy about the engagement because Eden wasn’t Jewish.  So the two mothers probably would’t have agreed on anything anyway.  Let the wedding be delivered as a fait accompli.  “The only thing set so far is I’m to be maid of honor.  Color scheme to follow.”

Well, good for Riley, Bernice thought.  What was she to be?  Excess baggage?  Frank would understand.  But then Bernice remembered his first wedding. What a Wisconsin disaster.  The rehearsal dinner was held in a “supper club” with stuffed fish on the wall along with moose heads, wedge iceberg salads, pork chops with sauerkraut, and Marni’s five siblings getting sloppily drunk.  The wedding itself was supposed to be a “fun” event.  Foam cheeseheads were passed out, and every guest received a Green Bay Packers jersey to wear for the beer and brats reception.  Fortunately, Bernice could take no blame for that fiasco.  She and Jerry had done their part by showing up and paying for the rehearsal dinner. Later, Jerry even took to wearing that damn jersey as a night shirt.  But she insisted they leave the foam cheeseheads behind.

Lately Bernice found herself crying a lot.  Since she was post-menopausal, she had no physical excuse whatsoever.  She was suffering from emotional trauma at what should have been one of the happiest moments of her life.  She couldn’t help but bring up the wedding during her monthly brunch with friends.  Did she get any sympathy?  No. Their advice was to sit back and enjoy.  Then came the horror stories of weddings for daughters they’d been a part of, not to mention the divorces that followed.

But still.  A daughter’s wedding.  It’s something a mother should be involved in.  And who was this Steve guy anyway?  She looked up Steve Applebaum on the web and could find—what did they call it?—no footprint?  You’d think he’d have some sort of profile somewhere.  Bernice even asked the reference librarian to help, but a search turned up nothing on him, although his parents were located and the number of their children.  Three boys.  Wow.  How lucky they were not to have ungrateful daughters.

In her obsessive state, she suggested to Carla a topic for “Past and Present.”  “Weddings and Their Meaning in Today’s Society.”  Carla okayed it happily and told Bernice to schedule it and find someone who could lead the discussion.

Well, who did Bernice know who could lead a discussion like that?  Anyone involved in weddings would probably be pushing her or his own services.  So what about—oh my god, she was smiling to herself.  What about Thad Dunkirk?  She laughed.  What a hoot that would be.

Bernice got his contact information from Carla, who was doubtful but did admit there was little damage Thad could do on this subject.  Emailing him the subject and date, Bernice waited for an RSVP.  He replied a few hours later, saying he knew nothing about marriage since he’d only been married once.  She pointed out, as a historian, he could bring his own perspective to the subject.  Feed the ego!  He agreed.

The night of “Weddings and Their Meaning in Today’s Society” arrived.  Bernice hoped it would be cathartic for her to hear from other women, as she was sure that would be her audience.  Thad arrived early, looking a bit nervous.  She assured him it would be a fun evening.  If he didn’t jump down anyone’s throat.

The chairs in meeting room had been set up in a circular fashion so that everyone could communicate without turning around and pulling a neck muscle.  But the usual number of between ten and twenty had to be expanded when forty people arrived.  Forty!  Carla would be so happy by the demographics, but how could they all fit?  Somehow all the chairs were zigzagged in, and everyone was equally uncomfortable.

Bernice decided to start the proceedings.  She usually just introduced the person who would lead the discussion but she thought she could allow her heart to flow into this session, so she said, “I thought of this topic because, to be personal, my daughter is getting married, and instead of the parents being involved, she has hired a wedding planner. And the wedding will be where they live and work, not where my daughter grew up.  I have to say I’m bereft by the fact that the wedding has been taken out of my hands.  I wondered about your experience and what you think about how weddings are handled today.  To give us a historical perspective, Professor Dunkirk is here, and I’m sure he will make the discussion more than lively.  Professor Dunkirk, do you have any opening remarks?”

He just looked up and raised his hands in surrender. “Let the war games begin.”

And the heavens fell.  What an evening!  So many stories and most were not about what one thinks of as a traditional wedding.  In fact, the only traditional wedding was between two women, both wearing bridal gowns picked out while shopping with their mothers.  Other than that it was free range.

“Past and Present” was scheduled for an hour between seven and eight, but no one wanted to leave and everyone wanted her—and his—say.  There was laughter and tears and applause and Carla coming down to tell them it was ten minutes to closing time.  Poor Thad hadn’t had a chance to screw up this session. In fact, he rarely opened his mouth except to talk about morganatic weddings in history and he was cut off on that one too, as no one really cared about history except his or her own.

Talk about bringing the community together.  People filed out, giving encouraging words to one another.  There were a few who reported that everything about the wedding went brilliantly.  No one had any sympathy for them.

Bernice was left alone with a disorganized meeting room and Thad Dunkirk.  “That was good, wasn’t it?”  Bernice said to him.

He shrugged.  “I don’t know why you invited me.”

“You didn’t enjoy it?”

“Discussing the cost of party favors?  Is that a Ph.D. topic waiting to be explored?”

“Don’t be a snob.  It was a beautiful session and everyone got a lot out of it.”

“Including you?”

“Of course.  Why do you think I organized it?”

“But why invite me?”

Bernice contemplated an answer.  “I was rude to you that day in Balducci’s.  I’m sorry about that.  I thought—well, that this might make up for the slight.”

“That’s—nice of you.  I realize I can rub people the wrong way sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”  She laughed and he joined in.

“Then maybe coffee sometime?” he wondered.

“Maybe,” she said.  “But right now I am maybe on a high, but also exhausted.  Let’s get out of here.”