I love my son, Tim, dearly. I love my daughter, too, but she’s not the subject of this post (sorry, Molly – another post for you). Tim was married Saturday evening, in an amazingly beautiful and meaningful Captiva Island ceremony, and I was the “mother of the groom”. I truly didn’t see that coming and was unprepared.
As it turns out, the mother-of-the-groom role, though short-lived, is pretty significant to the woman experiencing it – more significant than I had thought. In hindsight, here’s the way I see it. You are a boy’s mother, and he’s your son, from the first moment and for a lifetime. That’s a wonderful role, and a straightforward one that involves only mother and son. But the mother-of-the-groom role is completely contingent on the appearance of another woman on the stage. There’s a yin and a yang to it; the term “mother-of-the-groom” can only take shape when the stage is shared. Think about it – the term itself connotes two different relationships at once – mother and son, son and bride. More importantly, it suggests an important transition in the son’s life.
As I said, I love my son and I still feel that same emotional tug when I watch him, or say good-bye to him, just like I did when he was a vulnerable-seeming little boy. But more importantly, now, I am sweetly happy for him as he stands beside his beautiful and intelligent bride, Tracey, and looks out at a future full of shared possibilities.
My heart is full.
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