So this is what parenthood is, it seems.

August 2nd…

My daughter is getting married this month to a man she’s known at distance for seven months and in person for almost three months.

When I expressed my concern and asked them to at least have a longer engagement to give them time to really get to know one another, it was brushed off as my being too fretful.

On the other hand, they’ve decided to have a wedding in Hawaii sans friends or family. As she put it to me, “Why should I spend the time and money to have friends and family involved when they don’t support my choice?”

I feel as if there has been a decision to retaliate against those who have expressed concern and care for her long-term happiness as if it were something unreasonable or deliberately malign.

What she fails to notice or realize is that my concern didn’t result in my disapproval or withdrawal of my presence or support. In fact, I contributed half of her wedding dress cost just to ensure she had something memorable to wear on her special day.

It’s as if anything less than full acceptance is, itself, unacceptable. Of course, I feel hurt. But the hurt is more for the combined events since her arrival in June than this one episode.

She moved out here on June 1st and, by the middle of June, was largely moved in with her fiance. We had a bit of a tiff over this; we’ve been living cross-coasts from one another for years and I was really looking forward to having some family time with her at long, long last.

Now, she essentially thinks it’s “no big deal” and agrees to try and visit when she’s not too busy.

What she didn’t realize that I already knew was that she changed her mailing address to his prior to the move out. I knew this when she told me she had made the chance of address, but the obligatory confirmation didn’t arrive here from the post office.

Also because, when polishing her resume by her request, I found her fiance’s address as the point of contact. It didn’t even occur to her that it would be noticed… or would matter… or might hurt.

I tell myself it’s just a natural part of the maturation process. I tell myself it shouldn’t be “this big a deal” to me. I tell myself I’m being overly-sensitive and that I should just let it go so it doesn’t become a wedge.

But it is a big deal to me and I don’t think I’m being overly-sensitive, and I’m tired of letting things go as the only means to avoid being hurt.

I kept thinking that surely she wouldn’t really leave me out of her wedding. She’s my only daughter. This is her first (and last, I hope!) marriage. How could she not understand how important this is to a mother, a parent?

August 30th…

They returned on the 30th. Fresh off the plane, she sends me a text that she’s excited to see me, catch up, and spend time with me. It perks me up and I brush all the above under the carpet called, “Whatever, that’s all past and look… NOW it’s going to be ok.”

At 9pm I get a call asking if they could swing by and pick up her dog and the fish I’d watched for the week they were away. It was late, I was tired, and, having waited the day on that text, I wasn’t really in the mood. I asked them to come by the next day (Saturday) after 1.

August 31st…

Saturday morning, I decided to take the wedding cake topper I got for their cake (wry grin) and instead, have it placed into a centerpiece. I felt it would be a nice “welcome home” and perhaps demonstrate that I was making my peace with it all… or at least trying.

They arrived shortly after 3pm on Saturday, picked up the dog, picked up the fish, picked up a bunch of her easily moved things, said they’d return Sunday to move the rest of her items out, and departed.

The flowers were left behind; after all, you can’t carry a dog, a fish, and flowers, now can you? I’m sure it’s “just me” who feels that there wasn’t much catching up or time spending.

September 1st

Sunday morning, I ran an errand to return some things while my daughter, her husband, and his father began the first of three loads to move her things out. I pinged her to let her know why I was out, and then again when I finally headed back home (the place was mobbed).

It wasn’t until I got home that I found out she wasn’t coming back with them for the remaining two loads. She didn’t tell me, of course, she sent word through my partner. So he got to tell me when I got back.

It was at this point that I started to really think about the last three months… and, I realized that, June to present, I’ve seen my daughter roughly the equivalent of four days. The excuse initially was that “she just wanted to spend as much time with her fiance as she could”. Now, of course, it’s that’s she married.

In this time, the only times I’ve heard from her have been to ask if I could watch her dog and fish, if I would mind having her fiance’s daughter over with her for a while, and the occasional evening to watch one of our favorite shows, and a birthday dinner three days before my birthday because they were jetting off to get married on my birthday. Other than this, it’s essentially been three months of storing her things and being her “last resort”. The birthday dinner was nice… it made me think of how it could be, how I wish it was.

I suppose there’s a lot I could say, but I will simply say that I am sad.

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