Reflective Sunday Nights

For me, Sunday evenings are for reflection. Or possibly brooding. It's the only evening that I spend alone, due to Chris's work schedule; even though I spend my days alone, it's always different when he's gone in the evening. On some Sunday evenings, I end up having long phone conversations, and I'm on the phone when Chris comes home. On other Sunday evenings, the dark and the quiet cause me to be haunted by memory.

This evening, I've been thinking about the week of my wedding. I don't think I've fully processed that week; too much happened, far too quickly. By the end of the week, I was...well, not numb. I felt plenty. But I could only feel in controlled amounts.

I always assumed that my Wedding Memories would be of the stereotypical sort: the rush beforehand, the fun with the bridesmaids, walking down the aisle. Yes, I have some of those memories, although they're more like "the lull in the house before it was time to get dressed and I took a moment to blog; waiting with the wedding party to go down the aisle and having to get cramsey to keep the flower girl from escaping; taking off my shoes during the sermon." But even these memories are bittersweet, as they mix together with the rest of the week's events. Sometimes, when I look at my wedding dress I think, "When I got back from picking up my dress, Mom called to say that Marlin died. And then I check my blog and there was a message from arbonnais to e-mail her about Mike. And that's how I found out that Mike died."

But tonight, I think about my flower girl.

I will never regret having Wee Girlie as my flower girl. She was such a source of healing for me, during the day before and the day of the wedding. She was always there, when I was about to become overwhelmed, giving me big hugs. I don't know how a toddler could do that. But she did it at least twice. First, during the rehearsal, our officiant came in late, having just flown in from my cousin's funeral. He took a moment to update everyone on how the funeral went. I felt tears starting to come to my eyes, and suddenly there was WG, crawling up into my lap and clinging to me.

She did the same thing during our reception, when Chris and I were saying our "Thank yous". I was just getting around to thanking people who made it, in spite of the two competing funerals (including one happening at the same time as my wedding), and I was starting to get emotional about the rough week I'd had, and there was the Wee Girlie, barefoot and in her little flower girl dress, wanting me to pick her up. I hugged her tight, and got through the rest of the speech.

I'm so glad that it worked out that I took care of WG for the month of May. Through all of the insanity of finishing the thesis and planning the wedding, caring for a little one forced structure and stability into my life, right when I wanted to fall apart. But also, beyond that month, that time we spent together formed an understanding between her and me. And that (along with the support of my amazing Mom and Mom-in-law and the Best Bridesmaids Ever) carried me through that week.

And all of this came rushing back to me tonight. Especially those two moments, those special two moments, when I was about to fall apart and a two-year-old came and gave me a hug.

And, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm also remembering that spectacular moment when janny and Ky showed up (as I was laying on my parents' couch, trying keep myself from having another nosebleed), took my To-Do list away from me, and split it up amongst themselves. And now I'm smiling through the tears.