They have been dating for three years and she has been dropping un-subtle hints for some months about what she would do “if and when I get married.” Nonetheless, when Matt caught Tom alone for a few minutes on the beach last weekend and asked his blessing to marry our daughter, we were still blown away. Having your only daughter choose to start her own family is definitely life altering, as zillions of parents before us have realized.
What has also, no doubt, amazed the zillions of parents before us is the velocity with which the prospective bride steps into the role of wedding planner.
Within minutes of the proposal on a quiet Nantucket beach, cell phones were speed dialed and text messages zapped to his parents, his and her brothers and ourselves. We were sworn to secrecy until they were able to connect with the A list of their friends. When I protested, I was awarded privileges to call my family and best friend. But they should be sworn to secrecy until the A list was contacted.
Mandy’s sister-in-law, Tatiana, in Delaware, unaware of the no-tell rules, enthusiastically told her sister in South Carolina who in turn sent congratulations to Mandy on her Facebook page. In between sips of champagne Mandy saw this. Panicked that she might be outed before reaching all the A list people, she re-called her brother and got him to go on her Facebook page and erase the nice congratulatory message. (How this is accomplished remains a mystery to me but I can grasp that Scott now has possession of Mandy’s Facebook Password which must be like the older brother finding the hidden key to the little sister’s diary.)
In between all the texting and phoning on Nantucket, the happy couple made it to Matt’s aunt’s place where champagne was produced as well as a pair of fabulous Simon Pearce champagne flutes. Like us, Auntie also had advanced notice of the proposal but being more organized than I, was ready with an engagement present. I, of course, was so afraid of letting the cat out of the bag that I was practically mute all week long, fearful to initiate conversation and giving one word answers when forced to respond. Going shopping was completely out of the question.
So the affianced duo arrived back from Nantucket to our home on Cape Cod late Saturday afternoon. After a round of hugs, retelling of the actual proposal and oohhs and aahhs over the ring, Mandy settled down on the couch. A spiral pad was produced with pencil and Mandy started writing. “I’m making lists.” About ten minutes into this she tossed the book aside announcing that it wasn’t big enough. Dad offered a legal sized pad which satisfied for the time being.
At this point, I noticed a paleness taking over the nice manly tan on Matt’s face and a glazed deer-in–the-headlights look about his eyes. “Are you feeling all right?” I inquired. “He’s fine, Mom,” said Mandy looking up from her pad already covered with columns of names and lists of information. “We’ve had a lot of sun and champagne.”
Matt sort of smirked. “Get used to it, dear,” I whispered to him. ”This is only Day 1.”
Ain’t love grand?
Love, Carol. Dot.Com
Grandparenting 101
The Bragging Absolution
Identity Verification
And I Have a Ton of Sippy Cups!
Flunking Dog Bath
Wrapping It Up
Back To Homepage
