Friday, November 18, 2011

Part Two: "I don't love him"

“I think I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.”

She said this as most of her belongings were already en route to her new residence: her fiance’s house. 

She had spent the last three months trying to convince me that she was ready to move in with him. As it turns out, she may have been trying to convince herself.

I’ll admit she had me fooled at times. She picked out the paint and scheduled the painters. She got estimates on new carpet and had it installed. She talked in “we” sentences.

“When we settle into the house, we’ll have you over for dinner.”

“When we get new furniture…”

“When we get a Christmas tree…”

Although she changed her relationship status to “engaged” on Facebook (doing this makes everything official, right? *snicker*), I didn’t announce it to family members. I didn’t even tell her sister.

I had always imagined that the announcement of my daughter’s engagement would be festive, like in the movies, where the announcement itself kicks off a series of celebrations, dinners and impromptu wine drinking.

At the very least, I thought it would result in a series of phone calls, text messages and, yes, Facebook updates. 

The first phone call would go to my mom: “He proposed! He went to Jared!”

None of this happened.

Three months later, the words, “I think I’m making the biggest mistake of my life,” are hanging in the air and my heart immediately sinks to my stomach. Panic is setting in, but I can’t freak out on her now and it's not the time for "I told you so." 

She found the courage to tell me. Now she needs help. She needs her mom. 

I take a deep breath and calmly say,  “Then don’t go. Don’t do it.”

“Mom, it’s too late,” she says, tears are swelling in her eyes.

“No, mija, it’s never too late. Never.”

 “I’ve gone too far to back out now,” she says. “Everything is done. My stuff is probably already there. He’s waiting for me. He’s expecting me.”

Then she said what I had already suspected: “I don’t love him.”

I knew we’d reached a pivotal moment in the conversation. It was now up to me to find the right words.

“Listen to your heart, to your gut, to your intuition. All of these things are telling you not to go. Trust what you’re feeling and listen to what you’re telling me. You just looked me in the eyes and admitted that you don’t love him and that you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You don’t have to do this. It’s not too late. It’s never too late.”

As I pleaded my case, tears were streaming down her face as she sat there, silently listening.

“Mom, it’s too late,” she said again.

She then gathered the last of her laundry, put the dog in the backseat and left.

To be continued…

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Part One: Moving Day

The truck had just backed out of the driveway. It was pulling a trailer which was filled with most of my daughter’s belongings.

It was Monday morning and she was moving out of my house, my nest, to live with her fiancé.

I was holding up OK. I had not allowed even one tear to drop, knowing damn well I was destined to spend the rest of the day sitting in her room crying my mommy heart out.

While she continued packing a few remaining things in her car, I sat in my home office, staring at my Outlook calendar, wondering when I’d see her again.

“Thanksgiving,” I said to myself. “Wait… Is she even coming over or will they spend it with his family. But I don’t even know his family. Does she know his family?”

This line of questioning swirled around and around in my head until she walked in, I assumed to say good-bye.

She had hit me with the news of her engagement just three months prior. She also hit me with this…

Different questions swirled inside my head back then. The most important question being: Was she really ready for this?  

For the past three months, she’s been telling me that, yes, she is ready. She’s ready to make this commitment to him and to this relationship.

So you can imagine my surprise when she sat down in my office and said, “I think I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.”

To be continued…

Friday, November 4, 2011

“Do you like Oprah?”

Hi guys, it’s me. Been a while, I know, but keeping this short…

So I’m sitting in my big chair trying to watch TV, but my daughter’s boyfriend/fiancĂ©/whatever is here waiting for her. It will be a couple of hours before she gets home and we have absolutely nothing to say to each other. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

It’s freakin awkward! If it wasn’t for the dog snoring, you could hear a pin drop.

So I’m watching Oprah's LifeClass, but not comprehending what Oprah is trying to teach me about life because I feel this pressure to break this silence in the room and strike up a conversation with my future son-in-law (OMG, son-in-law! Did I just say that!).  

Me: "Do you like Oprah?"

Him:  "Well, I don't hate her."

That's it. I've run out of things to talk about.

The dog's awake now. I think he senses the tension. He’s sitting in between us as if he’s about to referee an MMA fight.