Mother of the Bridal Shower

Mother of the Bridal Shower

We aren’t building our dream house, but we are redecorating.  I use the term very loosely.  We are renovating madly.

Our only child, our beloved daughter, is having her bridal shower here and I have become Muriel Blandings.

So far, I have had my husband Charlie move all of the living room furniture three times, build a slate walkway, put a new roof on the house and replace the gutters.  He has replaced the kitchen faucet, we have painted all the trim and it seems that a box arrives from Amazon daily.

Planning a wedding | bridal shower | mother of the bride | Act 2

My pinnacle of “Blandingness” was when we chose the dining room paint.  I took a couch sleeve to Lowes to match the dusty rose color exactly.  Multiple paint can returns later, I finally got a dusty rose that satisfied me.  Charlie hid back in the hardware section at some point so that the Lowes people would not think he was with me.  I can’t blame him.  I’ve run mad.

Wrapped in Love

Planning a wedding | bridal shower | mother of the bride | Act 2I was wrapping shower gifts when I found myself making ever larger and more extravagant bows, like I used to wrap “from Santa.”  It seemed that the wilder the bow, the more luck, more love, more happiness would come to her.

I suddenly felt a kinship with every mother in every culture.  For the first time I understood the importance of ritual in a marriage.  The traditions, the well wishing, the hopes, dreams and the love a mother wraps into a gift.  It was as though I was decorating her wedding bower with my paint, my tchokes, and my bows.

Planning a wedding | bridal shower | mother of the bride | Act 2

There simply was not enough beautiful adornment I could give to this beloved daughter.  I wanted somehow to ensure her a wonderful marriage by my efforts.

Once I realized what I was doing, I set aside the gifts for a few moments.  As I sat there, I felt the gentle weight of generations of my great grandmothers, my grandmothers and my mother.  I realized that I was linking myself to them and to my daughter with these preparations in an ever spreading ring of love, tradition and celebration.

Goodbye, Mrs. Blandings.  My “dream house” is complete.

My precious girl really only needs to know that I adore her.  She will find her own bliss with her own love.  (Along with some Seriously Decorated Shower Gifts, too).

Planning a wedding | bridal shower | mother of the bride | Act 2

by Anne Ambuhl

Anne Ambuhl writes frequently for ACT TWO. For more of her Eye of the Beholder blog, click here.


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