You're Invited to Cullen's Wedding

This summer, while we were at the Jersey Shore, I looked at my son and was surprisingly gripped by fear.  A real sense of sadness came over me that while I truly love my life, he may not want to be like me and live like me.  I expressed to Jim how concerned I was that, 'One day, he may not live near us, or want to call us or when he does, he may secretly dread it...'  Jim assured me that I needed to take a breather and that he would call and would most likely want to stay within a few hours drive from us; but it still nags me to this day.

Cullen at the Jersey Shore

This morning, I was watching My Big Friggin' Wedding on VH1 and I laughed out loud when I watched the one mother of the groom shouting at herself in the mirror that, 'All she had in life now was her dog and that her son had left her because he had gotten married.'  (I honestly don't know why I have the propensity to watch reality TV; other people's lives just fascinate me.)  Now, I know that I'm not that bad, but it made me think about the Jersey Shore this summer and how the fear of not being a part of Cullen's life in the future was so overwhelming.

Earlier this year, my Dad and I were at a wedding and he made a comment about how the groom could be Cullen in 25 years and I snapped back that, "25 is way too young to get married."  And then I thought, "Hello, Mrs. Pot: you were 25 when you got married!"  And it makes me wonder how my parents felt.  Did my Mom have a pseudo meltdown at the Jersey Shore wondering if I was going to live nearby?  Or did my Dad go to a wedding 25 years ago and witness the father of the bride screaming at himself in the bathroom mirror that, 'His baby was gone?'  Probably not.

It's not that I'm insecure or that I wouldn't be happy if Cullen lived anywhere other than within a 10 mile radius of me; it's just that I want him to stay close.  Que the Rolling Stones, "You Can't Always Get What You Want."  So, for now, I have resigned myself to just focus on him being 1.  On his wedding being 24 years away.  And for him to maybe not always want to call, but knowing that he will, in spite of there not always being all that much to say.

Until tomorrow, goodbye.