Someday I will want to reflect on this time, I’m sure. So, I am writing just to mark this time.
Two weeks from today my daughter will no longer have the last name that I do. At this point in the planning, all but the last minute food items have been purchased, and all but a couple payments have been made.
Rustic, elegant. That’s what this wedding will be. That means that momma has been crafting! I haven’t seen this much burlap since I was Hiawatha in the third grade school program. And it’s really neat that I will have all new layers of skin on my fingers for the event thanks to my hot glue gun!

I have been so busy for so many months and in one week, I am quite convinced that I will be insanely busy again, but today I find myself at a bit of a standstill. The projects are slowing, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not, but being less busy means being less able to distract myself. Though I feel fine most moments, there are moments the family looks at each other and realizes that everything is about to change. Kirksey–party of five–is shifting gears. Are we then four or six? Probably both. But the prospect of an empty bedroom in the hallway is a bit much for any single one of us to cope with quite yet. Most moments we put a good face on it, but the tears are like fast moving, threatening storm clouds and slam into us out of nowhere.

And then I think of what a great day it’s going to be–that wedding day. It’s so Addie, this wedding we are planning–all ribbons and lace with a little burlap on the side.

And getting married and eventually starting a family has been the dream God placed in her heart since she was a little girl. Setting up her home and being a wife and mom will fit another huge piece of the puzzle that is my baby girl’s heart. I am genuinely happy for her. And that is truly a miracle. I always thought that when my kids got married, I might do exactly what my parents did and sob my way through the ceremony needing this to somehow be all about me. Nope. I know God is in this because I have such peace.

I’m trying not to say ‘This is the last time’ about anything. If you haven’t had a child move out yet, someday you will see how your mind toys with you.
I have found myself wondering if I did all the things I meant to do while my children lived at home. Did we cover all the things I was supposed to teach them? Did we miss anything together?
I found myself saying things like, “This is the last time the five of us will spend the day like this.”
Not going to let my mind travel to that place. I’m just determined not to.
This is not like when Justin left home. When he left, no one had peace about his absence. Not in the littlest, tiniest way. It was misery all around, and because he was unhappy, we suffered with and for him.
This is a relief for us in a strange way because she has been ready for this for so long. And she will be nearby. And there is nothing to be sad about when someone you love gets to live their dream.

So, I am going to continue to keep my mind and heart in this good place and be proud and happy for my darling girl as she takes these steps into her happy place. And I’m going to do what I would have loved to have a mother do and be near enough to call upon, distant enough to miss, and oh-so-happy for my Addie.

And throw her the wedding of her dreams.