As of Friday, November 9th, I have a married son. I am a mother-in-law, and Tim is a father-in-law. This monumental evolution occurred at a civil ceremony at Kenosha County Courthouse in Wisconsin. The whole story behind it is long, complicated, and not easily understood by me, but as long as they're happy, that's really all I care about. I think.
The costs of the impending May 2013 ceremony were rapidly spiraling out of control, so Brian and I had a conversation to spell out what we could pay for, and what we expected them to cover. That was fine, no problem. But the next day, he sent me one of the most beautiful emails I've ever read, that said they just could not find a way to make those expenses work, and rather than have us go into additional debt after buying their house, they would simply go to the courthouse - they didn't need a fancy party, all they needed was each other. I was elated to think that some of what we tried to teach our sons actually took. Of course, I was disappointed - we've already talked about how much I LOVE weddings! But I've had mine - as well as renewals - and so this was not about me. We told them that it was a very mature decision, and we respected their wishes. Eventually, they asked if they could still do the spring ceremony at church with a scaled back reception, and of course, we agreed. So the planning continued.
About three weeks later, I happened to ask if they'd set a date for the courthouse ceremony.......there was a LONG pregnant pause on the other end of the phone...."well, yeah, it's November 9th..." Well, dear, were you planning on telling us? So, is it just you & Liz and her mom? "Well, no, all her aunts are coming and a bunch of our friends....I'll make sure Liz sends you an invitation right away...:" I then proceeded to cry for the next two days. Even with a concerted effort, it would have been impossible to hurt me any more deeply. Even if it WAS almost next to impossible for us to get there on such short notice.
Good, true friends convinced me to at least send Tim, who has years of unused vacation. He could stay with family, and at least it would be a family presence. If I stopped thinking about it, it was OK, I could live until spring. A week before he was to leave, I was having coffee with a work colleague I hadn't seen for awhile. When she asked about the status of the May wedding, I explained the situation. She sat there, looking at me like I had three heads, and said, "Are you NUTS???? What airline is he on?" I told her Alaska. She said, "I'm DROWNING in Alaska miles - you're going". And with that, she whipped out her cell phone, and booked me a ticket outward bound with Tim, returning a day earlier so I, with no vacation, could get back to work. This unbelievable gesture of grace and generosity, coupled with being offered a new job (whole other story), had people telling me I should go buy a lottery ticket.
The plan was to keep me a secret, if for no other reason than to see his reaction. On a strangely warm, windy Friday morning, we arrived at the courthouse and I stood behind a doorway near the courtroom they'd been assigned. Brian arrived, saw his dad and uncles, and after they said their hellos, I popped out. Brian took one look at me, and said "Jeanne was RIGHT!" His mother-in-law, being the good mother that she is, kept telling him that it was likely I'd show up, that I'd never be able to stay away. That was probably the best, and longest, hug we ever exchanged.
Enter the courtroom, with a sweet, doddering old judge whose every step had me thinking he'd keel over..."Who's got the license?", he asked. Deafening silence - for a second, I thought Liz would dissolve in tears. Jeanne piped up with "Your Honor, they were told that it would be here waiting for them, that they could not take it with them...." At which point there was a flurry of activity and phone calls from the clerk (try scaring up anyone in a Wisconsin courthouse at 11:30 on a sunny Friday during hunting season) until said license was unearthed by another clerk, who received a rousing round of applause.
As Brian and Liz stood in the front of the courtroom facing family and friends, the look on each of their faces was exactly what I wanted it to be - pure and total adoration and love. Brian did nothing but gaze at her; Liz couldn't look at him for long, because she was in danger of crying. When the important words came - "I now pronounce you..." - the joy and relief on their faces was worth every second spent raising this kid - this is what it was for.
Everyone trooped to a nearby Irish pub for lunch and celebratory beverages - a perfect end to an interesting, unique occasion that serendipity sent me to attend.
