This wedding flower project was a perfect solution to the griefiness of May. It was much more a welcome distraction than it was a burden or additional responsibility to shoulder.
I spent the run up to the wedding getting supplies and a staging area set at my aunt’s house (my own house and kitchen are much too small for this). The wedding was Saturday the 16th, and so on Friday, with everything else set, I woke up early and harvested greenery from the backyard to harden off in the fridge for as long as possible. This prevents wilting in finished flower arrangements, as does picking before the heat of the day hits. I am glad I went (or so I thought) way overboard on this- as (spoiler) the flower markets were incredibly picked over on greenery and we would have been sooo out of luck if I hadn’t been able to harvest my own stuff.
I drove to the wholesale flower markets in San Antonio mid-morning and got flowers. Of course this resulted in damn near ZERO of the same flowers or fillers I had for the practice run as the selection was vastly different… you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit though, so it was what it was. I got beautiful flowers and some grasses… we were still good.
We (my friend’s sister, sister in law, and I) started arranging at 6:30… and didn’t get done arranging until after midnight. We made 148 small arrangements, 3 bouquets, 2 corsages, and 5 boutonnieres (a word I don’t stand a chance in hell of ever spelling correctly.)
We then packed them all up and they were ready to go for the next day.
On Saturday afternoon we put them all out on tables, and not a single one wilted for the wedding or reception- woo-hoo! It helps that the weather was cooler than normal and only in the low 80s, and that the tables were in shade with a cool breeze coming in over the river.
it all turned out beautifully, if I do say so myself.
And you know the wedding itself was good too. I had kinda been side-eying it as the day got closer, wondering how it was going to sit with me, emotionally, as this was the first wedding I’d been too since my husband had died. So it was a legitimate relief to feel nothing but happiness as I saw my friend’s husband (a friend of mine from high school too) walk his step-daughter down the aisle. (She was holding the bouquet backwards, so that part made me want to die, but OTHER than that…)
But it was good. The ceremony was good. The speeches were good. The toast was good.
And then I. FUCKING. LOST. IT. the second the father/ daughter dance started. I had let my guard down too soon, turns out.
They were just never going to get this, my girls. I can do all the rest for them. I can walk them down the aisle. I can help calm their nerves. I can tell them they look beautiful as brides. I can do the toast… all of it. But I cannot do the father/ daughter dance for them. They will never have that with their dad.
And my husband will never get to do that with them either.
And so right there, on the right side of table 10 and under the high shade of a cypress tree next to the river, my heart shattered into a million billion pieces for all four of them, and all they will miss out on, and I just immediately started sobbing into my hands. And let me assure you- I will never make someone else’s moment about me- so it was the most surreptitious heart shattering and sobbing you’d ever have seen, Scout’s Honor. Hell, I’m not even sure the whole table knew, just the folks I was sitting with. One of them grabbed me and hugged me tightly though it. Another got me a napkin and some water. It lasted- I don’t know… a minute? But it was honestly shocking and scary in it’s intensity. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk. I am lucky I didn’t have to though, and at least I had help and didn’t have to face it alone around strangers.
Small mercies.
Once I could breathe again I was able to go inside and splash some water on my face. It’s a good thing I don’t wear much makeup I guess.
And then I just… was able to shake it off. I had cried enough to move it through the system, I found, and so I was able to pretty quickly get back to baseline and was able to enjoy the rest of the night, and I didn’t even have to put on a mask of a brave face to do it. My own face is brave enough to handle it, turns out.
Anyway.
It was good and if there was a grief spike in the midst of it, well what else is new? As dealing with the grief is the only way I get to experience all the rest of it… well I guess I can put up with the grief.
And then… the 19th came. D-Day.
Just like last year the weird body feeling of anxiety started to build, and sleep became more and more elusive. And just like last year I took some days off around it and this was still a very good choice. I needed the days to process.
My girls insisted on going to school, so I was on my own during the day.
And I had this weird disconnect between all my various component parts.
Mentally I was okay and pretty at peace.
Emotionally I was pretty raw and had some bubbling up of tears that happened throughout the day, but it was manageable.
But physically… woof! Physically the feeling of doom and panic and anxiety washed through my chest on a pretty regular churn. I was exhausted but couldn’t rest. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty but did make myself eat and drink.
This kinda conveys the concept of my mental, emotional, and physical self that day:
The poor idiot body… trying to alert me to watch out for the thing here that almost killed me once, and doing it in the least useful way possible. Sigh. It isn’t unexpected.
I tried to rest and meditate and write… nothing really seemed to scratch the surface. So I then went outside and worked up an insane sweat mowing and weeding and edging… and that did the trick. I then came inside and took a cold shower and then was able to sleep for an hour before I had to walk down to the elementary school to get my youngest.
Soon after my older two got there and we packed up and headed out to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening hiking out to my husband’s tree on the river and swimming and fishing.
We stayed out through all of twilight and timed the hike back perfectly as full dark hit right after we got to the car. The hike back we were escorted by hundred’s of fireflies… it was kinda magical and beautiful and good. Once home we had an insane amount of pasta and then I took a bath hot enough to boil a chicken and then I fell down a deep well of dreamless sleep and didn’t wake up again until the 20th.
The 19th came and went. The way it does. And the 20th came. The way it does. And now it’s been two years.
The mechanics of it being two whole years though… I don’t know how that works. I couldn’t survive an hour of this grief and didn’t and yet here we are.
It’s all so very weird like that.
In other news, before D-Day and the wedding, I finished the window project I’d been working on in the front. This involved removing all the mildewy and cracking caulk around the windows, recaulking them, priming them, and painting them.
This is what they looked like before:
And this is what they look like after!
It looks so much better than it did, but I may put off doing the other 3 sides of the house until fall. The really hot weather is about it hit, the mosquitoes are bad due to our mild winter, and also I really hate painting.
The kittens are great.
I don’t have many pictures of Monty as he’s ALWAYS with my 17 year old, but I do have this pic from the one time he decided to nap on my bed.
But Goose is always flitting about like a straight up goblin.
He was really sweet on the 19th though, as even in his teeny baby head he picked up on the fact I needed more that day and so he insisted on being on me and purring his heart out any chance he got. So that’s a good Goosey. I do appreciate.
A purring kitten on the chest does help the vagus nerve, turns out.
As he’s settling in we find he only has 3 settings: demonic attack goblin straight from the 7th circle of hell, purring cuddling sweetheart, or asleep.
He is god’s most perfect angel when he’s asleep though… but then also, who isn’t?
Earlier in the week I took him to the vet and he’s confirmed a boy, is in perfect health, and has now cost $375.
Free kitten my ass.
Anyway. Big fan over here, as I’m sure this glowing recommendation conveys.
And, as always I’ll leave you with some memes- though they are a bit sparse this week.
Till next time.
the something garden 