How does she ALWAYS know?!

I’m currently planning a wedding. I never thought I would and to be honest the idea has always felt very overwhelming, much like the idea of a corset: me gripping white knuckled to the post of an unmade bed, clothes scattered everywhere. My chamber maid pulling tightly on the corset ribbons, one foot on my lower back for leverage against the constant re-gripping and tightening, yank, yank, re-gripping and tightening. My lungs unite with my ribs; oxygen a treat of the past.

I am presently surprised it is nothing like this. I attribute the comfort to the grace that I am marrying the love of my life. He fills my lungs, he cuts the ribbons.

It has become a wonderful opportunity to spend time with my mother. We try on many dresses and we love them all. The first one is my favorite, then the next one is, and then ok seriously the next one is for real. By the time we get to the end we are overwhelmed and can’t narrow them down. All the pretty dresses. Some are so silly, thank heavens, those are easy to put back.

And we sit in the car, my mother and I, and we talk and talk and talk. And she listens. To all the things.

Last night she took me to Chili’s and while we ate our chicken fajitas she told me a story about my Grandma Jerry. It was a story about a struggle my grandmother experienced that is very similar to a struggle I am blessed to experience. And it was exactly what I needed to hear. I have heard so many things: you should do this and you should do that and you should eat this and you should drink that and I do all the suggestions and drink all the potions and it just doesn’t change a thing. But the story she told me about my grandma changed everything. It made me feel honored. To be anything like her for five minutes; I would take it for a lifetime.

It reminded me of a recent yoga instructor who told us during class something to the effect of, ‘you should learn to enjoy the posture and not anticipate when you will be finished with it, but be disappointed when I tell you to come out of it’. Knowing now the story, I want to be in the struggle. I want to be like my grandma. I no longer want to anticipate when my struggle will be finished and I will be disappointed (but also relieved because my muscles are on fire) when I have to come out of it.

The rest of the night we talked about everything else.

This wasn’t the first time.

She always knows exactly what to say.