Enough with the sentimental, "isn't it fun to buy a cake for my wedding guests" bride. Here's what I haven't said. Planning a wedding is stressful and heartbreaking. Yes, heartbreaking. I find it heartbreaking. As I told Joyce yesterday over my half panini, I am either going to end up at the alter in November or on the evening news for going on a homicidal rampage.
So, here's the heartbreak for me. Everyone in my entire family tree over the age of 18 is married. Every sibling, every cousin, every second cousin (though maybe not my second cousin Julie on my dad's side). Some are on their second marriages. All of my law school friends are married. And guess what? Once people get married, they tend to procreate so most of my siblings and cousins have kids. Half the family is Catholic, so there is no shortage of kids, even in this more secular time. Same with my law school friends.
Here comes me, the caboose of the generation, bringing up the rear in the lovely roundness that is 2008.
So there is a part of me that feels heartbreak about being last. I like being first. If I really had my way, I like being both first and best, to the extent those are two different things. My friend Debbie told me a while ago, "Just give it up. You lost the wedding race. You also lost the baby race. Slown down and enjoy your own stride to the finish line. If there are no bagels and bananas left at the finish line, take yourself out to breakfast and get pancakes and sausage." There is no consolation like that from a fellow competitor who has her own battle with the finish line.
So, here's the heartbreak for me. Everyone in my entire family tree over the age of 18 is married. Every sibling, every cousin, every second cousin (though maybe not my second cousin Julie on my dad's side). Some are on their second marriages. All of my law school friends are married. And guess what? Once people get married, they tend to procreate so most of my siblings and cousins have kids. Half the family is Catholic, so there is no shortage of kids, even in this more secular time. Same with my law school friends.
Here comes me, the caboose of the generation, bringing up the rear in the lovely roundness that is 2008.
So there is a part of me that feels heartbreak about being last. I like being first. If I really had my way, I like being both first and best, to the extent those are two different things. My friend Debbie told me a while ago, "Just give it up. You lost the wedding race. You also lost the baby race. Slown down and enjoy your own stride to the finish line. If there are no bagels and bananas left at the finish line, take yourself out to breakfast and get pancakes and sausage." There is no consolation like that from a fellow competitor who has her own battle with the finish line.
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