mission accomplished

Rob and I had a beautiful wedding on Saturday. I'd had my doubts about having it at the school, simply because it seemed odd to get married where one works, but it was nothing short of wonderful. Rob, of course, loves the school so much that he more or less insisted, too! My students all chipped in with some work and made it happen, following my to-do lists for each of them to a T.

200 of our friends, colleagues, family, and the aforementioned music students enjoyed a lovely ceremony in the antique, fire-lit warmth of the Big Room, celebrated by Milena (my therapist --- she's also an ordained minister). Then we had a fun dessert reception until midnight in the beautifully modern Tech Building, accompanied by a jazz quartet.

I thought long and hard about how (or more accurately, whether) to broach the topic of this wedding with my mother. It's actually a large part of what caused me to seek therapy back in June. Taking into consideration her failing health, her complete lack of a sense of what's appropriate to say or do in a given situation, and her cutting comments about my then-boyfriend (now husband) Rob, having her at the wedding was just a non-starter. Her health would likely not have allowed it, even if she'd been invited, or more likely, I would have had to ask my brother J. and his wife N. to just about sit on her all night just to keep her from spouting off something terribly impolitic. But more to the point, given that she made it very clear that she doesn't approve of Rob (she liked him a lot at first, but as it became clear that we were growing more serious, the blueness of his collar seemed to bother her more and more), she wouldn't have approved of the marriage.

I didn't even give her a chance...my brothers haven't mentioned it to her; any of her friends I've been in touch with aren't in touch with her; and I'm certainly not fodder for the society weddings section in the Globe, so she doesn't even know that the wedding was planned, much less that it has occurred.

I will have to tell her, simply because if I don't, my niece or nephew (twins, age 12) will unwittingly spill the beans. I don't want them to get slammed, and I also don't want to ask them not to be honest. So I'll have to tell her, in a simple factual way, just to clear the air...not because she needs to know, or deserves to, but because it's the right thing to do for the other people involved.

She will likely be completely incensed, not because of the *marriage*, per se, but because she, *the bride's mother*, wasn't there to play the "role"...soak in the perceived adulation of the guests; likely attempt to play all kinds of power games because she paid for a wedding more lavish than what we pulled off, as she did with my first wedding in 1991; and generally attempt to be belle of the ball. I have deprived her of that opportunity, and because I didn't trust her to respect my wishes and stay away, I didn't even tell her about the wedding in advance.

Right up until about half-way through the evening, I had intermittent, brief, but vivid moments of dread, visualizing her arriving at the school via limo, making her macabre "I'm ready for my closeup, Mr. Demille" grand entrance, ready to suck all the oxygen out of the room and make sure nobody had a good time (at least, not her family). I saw an image of her limping along because she still hasn't attended to her knee surgery (but rather, only talked about it for a decade); her "temporary" bridge falling out because she's been too vain to get real dentures, or even much dental care at all, in years; having her pretend everything's hunky-dory between the two of us (that she never heaped abuse on me and called my now-husband "a loser, and user, and an abuser" despite the fact that he went the extra mile for her right up until the very second that *I* made the decision that I couldn't continue as her doormat one minute longer) because it would give her the chance to bask, as mom-of-the-bride.

As I said on the Adult Children of Narcissists (ACON) group on Yahoo: Game over, mom. You've lost the right to be included in polite society...at least my slice of it, anyway.

All I can do now is thank my brothers for being at the wedding, as my only family, and for recognizing that she should not, could not be there as well. I'd expected some static about it from J., but none was forthcoming, other than a few words about how he isn't entirely "comfortable" with the situation, but acknowledging at the same time that it was a "tough call". I've replied to him that there isn't a *thing* about her which is "comfortable", and there hasn't been in years.

We all just enjoyed ourselves and each other, having a *fun* evening...that never would have happened if she'd been there; if she'd been there, the best any of us could have done is survived the event. It was so wonderful, and such a relief, to be around people (my husband, my therapist/celebrant, my brothers, many of my friends and co-workers) who just *understood* and were there to enjoy themselves and give their good wishes to the new marriage.