It’s after 10:00 on Friday night and the phone rings, a really unusual event in our home. Our three children and the rest of the family know that a phone call after 9:30 or so at night sends not only our feet racing, but our hearts too. Late phone calls have spelled disaster in the past and we answer them with trepidation.
I pick up the phone. It’s our son’s girlfriend on the other end of the line. My first thought? “What’s happened to our son?” So I’m a little confused by the upbeat nature of her voice since I expect the news to be bad.
“Guess what?”, she asks in tones barely containing excitement. “We’re engaged!”
It only takes a split second for my mother’s thoughts to speed from “What? engaged in a horrible argument? Engaged in waiting for the triage nurse?” to “Holy somoli, my baby boy is getting married!”
As the details of the proposal come tripping out of this sweet woman’s mouth, my mind is already racing. There’s going to be another wedding in the family. We’re on the brink now, the very first step. Soon, our lives will be filled with the process of investigating, decision making, booking. Wedding invitations, church ceremonies, finding reception venues, who is going to be in the wedding party, pick a date, choose a wedding cake, a wedding gown, flowers, rings – these things will be part of our everyday lives for the next couple of years.
My son is getting married.
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