Back From That Wedding

I am back from my stepson's wedding, and so very grateful for where I live and for my life here. It is a beautiful day and the sun is shining.

The wedding itself was lovely and sweet and beautifully orchestrated. The bride and groom were precious. All went smoothly. The rehearsal brunch we hosted went off terrifically. The bulk of the people attending were from the bride's side, and from LoveHubbie's ex-wife's side. A few of LoveHubbie's family did get to attend, which was a great highlight, including a special call from that favorite nephew in Brazil.

The reception was a bit difficult, as amidst the lavish surroundings of a country club that looked like a castle, seating was scarce and food was even scarcer; fortunately the bride's family did offer water, but the lines were long and the competition stiff, even more aggressive than that for the seating, as it was a pleasantly warm day. Everyone wanted that water! We eventually found older family members seating and captured a small table that younger family members visited throughout the afternoon. It was such an incongruous situation for such a wealthy and abundant setting. All in all, it was an occasion to remember, primarily for the several family members from our side who attended, although some could only stay for a short time because of work obligations and distance traveled. We stayed for the whole thing, from late morning until early evening.

One thing that always troubles me at family or community functions in Texas is the legacy of stories and gossip from the past. As part of the acrimonious divorce LoveHubbie went through, his community was inundated with fictional tales told to anyone who would listen. These were stories of adultery and betrayal, accounts of LoveHubbie wanting to murder his ex-wife and children with "guns", and many other wild and crazed allegations. Everyone is civil now and gets along well at public events.

The stories and their legacy live on, though. A decade later as I meet people who I know indirectly from the children or from LoveHubbie as people from their past, I see on their faces a look of recognition, the "There's the adulteress!" look of contempt, or the "She's the one who married the crazed homicidal father of those poor kids" look of disgust.

I don't want to defend myself, as it isn't necessary to me, and it isn't anyone's business. In addition, the only way I could defend myself would be to call LoveHubbie's ex-wife a liar, and I'm not interested in that either. More drama. More revenge attempts from the ex, using the children. I'm sure she did what she thought she needed to in order to establish grounds for a "biblical divorce" in Texas, to avoid shame, and to save face in the eyes of the church. While trying to destroy LoveHubbie's relationships in their community though, she perhaps inadvertently destroyed the open hearts and trusting souls of their three children, a loss that may never be repaired. And the wounds of her neediness and past actions are re-opened each time we return to Texas.

So, yes I am glad to be home. I am glad to be around people who know me for who I am. I am happy to be away from folks held in the thrall of religious fundamentalism and parochialism, from gossip and small-mindedness. I miss my husband's family, but will be glad to see them in another environment. I need support and the reflection back of those who know me accurately. There's no place like home.