Today was one of those epic days where I am compelled to write it all down for memories' sake (not tomorrow or I will forget it all) and yet, it's been one of those days so emotionally drenching I am not able to put the energy into the words. We'll see what I can do.
Today we experienced the spectrum of humanity, the best and the worst.
At ten thirty this morning my best friend Wendy married her handsome Travis in the Provo Temple. In short, my brother Jesse (a friend of Travis') and I set them up on a date five years ago. Five years have come and gone with it's unintended drama--break ups, back togethers, dating others, dating exclusions, Travis moving away and finally, a really sweet and short engagement which led to this morning's wedding.
Truthfully, I would have been happy for Wendy (of course) if I had NOT had a hand in her finding "the one" but man does it make it so much better to feel like I was part of the planning commission for this marriage. If I were Jewish and lived one hundred years ago, I'd be perfect for the village matchmaker. I mean, Jesse and I would be a good matchmaking team. This isn't my first set-up to end in marriage, you know.
I love Travis. He's got a special spot on my heart devoted to him.
Except I came to this awful reality to today when, after the ceremony and we were taking photos, I realized I wouldn't have Wendy around to spoil The Chief with popsicles or stop by to see if Ever needed to be cuddled, or for heaven's sake just to lounge with me in the front room for hours. Now Wendy is signed, sealed and delivered to someone else. Plus, she's moving to Pinedale, Wyoming.
That special spot on my heart for Travis just got a little smaller. Darn him.
If I were able to create a day--a perfect day-- with blue skies and pink dahlias, orange zinnias and a hint of fall, an equisite day for a wedding, it would've been today. It was glorious and I couldn't help but daydream a little that it was my wedding. And Wendy looked glow--y, bride--y and lovely. Which she deserved, she's the best of souls.
After the wedding Chup and I headed home where a hefty decision awaited us. It had been a week since we found a gruesome lump on The Chief's shoulder and it hadn't come to a head, which meant it couldn't drain. In fact, it was bulging in size and lumpiness--like a large bouncy ball growing oblong. Our devoted doctor had kept tabs on us all throughout the week (almost daily) and decided we should come back in and take another look. At that point we'd have to lance and drain the lump manually, without much sedative which would be extremely painful for our unaware little boy.
Darn that lump too.
When it was decided at the doctor's office it was best to cut open the skin to let the abscess drain we had to find some sort of courage to follow through. Our doctor was very upfront about how it was going to go down, "He will be in pain. It's not comfortable. But it's brief." I kept thinking how it was the best decision to get the thing drained, but Chup looked horrible. Maybe the worst part was seeing The Chief on his lap, enjoying a pina colada sucker, completely enraptured in his imagination oblivious to what he was about to experience.
The procedure was as horrid as the doctor had warned us. It was nothing short of torture. For The Chief and his pain, for us as his parents and the medical staff who had to hold his little body down so he wouldn't thrash out. My gosh. My heavens. I don't think I have the ability to describe the anguish. My poor Chup was wiping away sweat and tears to keep from dripping on his son's head he was holding. The intensity of it all was reminiscent of Ever's birth which was helpful to me in a way, it reassured me that after great pain comes great relief. But in the middle--like that birth--I proclaimed "I'd never do this again."
Even though, I know it was necessary.
I couldn't help but think about Piper Jane, and Davy and many other brave children I have met and their mommies and daddies who, regularly have to hold their children down to help them endure pain. I thought about my mother watching my sister Stephanie suffer. My goodness. My gracious. I wish this world didn't even know that concept. I wish it didn't exist.
And I thought about being a Christian, how our core belief is that Jesus Christ suffered for humanity--an unthinkable amount. And I thought about how our Heavenly Father had to allow for his son to go through that. And I got a glimpse of understanding the magnitude of it all when in his screaming I couldn't do anything about it. And then, when it was over, my son reached out, wailing "Mommy!" and I picked him up and held him so tight I couldn't breathe. He was sweaty and shaky and sticky from the interrupted sucker. And boy did I pray my heart out in gratitude for his health, for the chance I have to be his security, for Jesus Christ.
I am a believer.
Later we went back to the wedding dinner. There was Wendy a beautified blond with Ashlee's signature pin-up curls. We sat at the table with my dearests friends, Anne, Haley, Amber, Katy and my brother Jesse with Lindsay and newly born Vera. There, in this outdoor dinner party were seated people I love and have loved my whole life--the same amount of time I have known Wendy.
Chup gave a dramatic reading, an account I wrote about Travis and Wendy's weird first date (on this very day five years ago!) We were there, and let me tell you, I would've never guessed that date would end in marriage. Yikes.
Jesse gave a great tribute to Travis.
And I got to talk about how Heavenly Father gave Wendy to me to keep me from utter loneliness and self-imposed hermitage. I have been very lucky in the best friend category. She is remarkable for her quick-to-forgiveness and loyalty. Loyalty you can only find in the canine species and Phish fans. Wendy has been one of the greatest blessings of my life.
When the sun was starting to set, closing out this good-looking day, Chup turned to me and said, "Let's go home." On our way we stopped by the Beesleys. We found Andrew and Lucy outside in the twilight on colorful lawn chairs eating apples off their tree.
Andrew peeled me one with the knife in his hands. I am always pleasantly shocked how good their apples taste in my mouth.
"By-the-way, what kind of apples are these?" I examined the yellowish green apple in my hand.
"I don't know," said Andrew "they are kind of sweet and also kind of sour."
And without knowing, Andrew Beesley had just succinctly summed up my entire day.
*photos by the always clever Haley Warner.
I am c jane and The Chief is sleeping soundly tonight. I can't say the same for Wendy and Travis. Wink, wink.
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