Skip to main content

Let the good tears roll...

It's finally hitting home for everyone.

I arrived on Sunday after a long LONG flight (sat on the runway fo 3 hours..oh dear).

D's parents were waiting for us at the airport. The minute we saw them, it was like we'd never been away.

Once we arrived back to their house, I called my mom just to let her know that I made safely.

She doesn't like flying herself and would tend to be a worryer - guess that's where I get it from - so she was going on the assumption that no news is good news.

But the minute she heard my voice, there was a sigh of relief in her giddy hello.

I asked her how she was and immediately, with a lump in her throat, she said she was getting quite a bit emotional. She was taken aback, she said, by all these emotions that began flooding out of her.

Maybe it was my voice, one that she's so used to hearing in a different time zone, now feet planted on the ground in Canada, here specifically for this event our family has been planning for.

It's finally here. I'm finally here. In no way am I suggesting I am THAT key of a component for this event but it's just the fact that being here means it must be close, other wise, what is the girl from Belfast city doing back home?

I said goodbye to my mom, told her she should not stop herself from crying as she often does but embrace it as soon, it would be all over. I also let her know that this is completely normal, although how I know anything about being a mother of a daughter who's getting married I don't know but I know that's what my mom needed to hear and from observational experience, I know it's true.

I got on the horn to my sister - who had just had her last stagette the Saturday night before. She sounded in good form, unlike FBIL (future-brother-in-law) who was completely spent on the couch form his final stag party. I could hear his voice in the background, just barely audible. Oh dear.

She sounded so calm. Content. Happy. Not yet nervous. And so so prepared.

As an event planner myself, there are benefits to planning your own wedding. You are used to the fact that a week before the event, there are some things that you can no longer control and you just have to go with them.

The event planner in C is helping her enjoy these last couple of days, knowing that the few bits and pieces that need to be done can easily be sorted. Can easily be organised. Because there is always a way.

And you might as well enjoy the journey just as much as the destination.

****

Tomorrow: Family partying begins with my dad's side of the family hosting the big event.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm baaaack!

Hard to believe that last entry was almost three years ago!

Many moons ago, I set this blog up to chronicle our journeys. Once we were grounded a bit more, it kind of lost its way. I spent some time working on my writing offline, taking on different projects and working full time as a technical writer. It was difficult to keep this blog up. Not for any real reason I can articulate. Just had my words redirected to other avenues for awhile.
But, I'm pleased to say, after over a decade away, we are back in the UK, living and re-experiencing a place we enjoyed in the mid-2000s.
Social media has certainly changed the way we look at blogs. I'm excited to navigate this new world, explore just what people post, what people read. What's better on one of the many new platforms and what's still appropriate for good old fashioned blogosphere.
For now, here's a peek at where we're staying -- in a pretty little village just outside of Oxford. A temporary home for now but suc…

Focus

My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…

In Remembrance

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,."

When I was eight years old, I carried the Canadian flag in the Remembrance Day parade for our Brownie unit. I can't really remember when I realized the importance of November 11 but I can only imagine that somewhere between learning about that day at school and taking part in a very solemn ceremony that it must have been ingrained in my head to always mark this day.

   "That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly"

I remember growing up, the assemblies at school, always with a older veterans, in those days many from both World Wars, would attend. When I got to high school, I remember not being able to fathom how these decorated men and women, had once been my age, had once stood up and fought, and had made these decisions during the same years I would try to decide which route to take from English to Science just to maybe catch a glimpse of my current cru…