A Wedding and a Goodbye

This week I intended to write about a wedding. Not just any wedding though, but a family wedding. My cousin got married on the 5th and my sister, my boyfriend, and I all made our way down to southeast Kansas for the ceremony.

I was going to write about love and how beautiful it is when someone you love finds love with another person. However, that wasn't truly what was on my mind as my cousin and childhood friend walked down the aisle.

Let's go back to the beginning of the week when I got a call from my dad. It was 11 a.m. and I was just waking up. I rolled over and looked at my phone; my dad had called me nine times and texted me saying "911". In my head, I thought maybe something was wrong with my grandma. She had heart surgery a couple weeks ago and my dad always keeps me in the loop about her health.

When I called, my dad explained that my sister's dog, Mia, was sick and the vet had told Taylor that she was going to die. He said he was picking Taylor and Mia up to bring them back to his home so they could bury Mia in the yard right next to where we had buried my hamster, Helga, about a month ago. While he was in town, he was hoping I would go out to lunch with them, so he could see me. I, of course, said yes.

At lunch, Taylor cried into her cheeseburger as the diagnosis really sank in. My dad was on the phone with the animal hospital in the town next to his hoping to get more information about Mia's disease. They just reiterated what the vet in Iowa City was saying, but told him if he needed anything to just call. I was the only person who ate anything in front of them.

Mia enjoying a "pupachino" from Starbucks

The next day I got a text from my dad saying Mia had passed peacefully and that Taylor would be staying at his house until we headed to the wedding. I was really sad, but mostly for Taylor's sake. Mia was as much a part of my life as she was Taylor's, but with one major difference: Mia actually liked Taylor. Mia was one of those dogs who attached themselves to one person and vowed to protect them until the end. Taylor was Mia's person and Mia was one of Taylor's best friends. After Taylor and I went to college there was no question as to whose dog Mia was, and I firmly told Taylor we didn't have to share Mia anymore as long as we didn't have to share the Wii anymore. Now I have a Wii in my room and Taylor has to live with the loss of a partner-in-crime.

On July 4th, we picked up Taylor and headed to Kansas.

We had to make a few stops on the way before we made it to my Nanny's house. Jacob hasn't seen his family or friends since he moved in with me in May. Though it may not seem like that long, it's his first time living on his own and he was missing his parents and little sister. So we stopped in to see everyone we could on our way down. First, we stopped at his grandpa's house where we saw his mom. He gave her hugs and saw his mom's family for a while as they celebrated the 4th.

Then we drove to his dad's. There we stayed for a while playing with his 4-year-old sister and his Great Dane, Jade. His best friend also stopped by and hung out with us for a while. After a while, it came time for us to head back out on the road. We promised to come say goodbye again on our way back through, then we got back in the car.

As we drove down the highway I couldn't help thinking that Jacob looked a little sad. I thought maybe he was just disappointed to be leaving his family again after only a short time. I don't know if he was actually sad or just tired of being in the car all day, but to make sure, I held his hand while I was driving.

We made it to my Nanny's house after another two hours in the car. Soon her house was filled with family members I haven't seen in over a year. As I get older, I only really see my extended family at weddings and funerals. We haven't really had anyone on my mom's side of the family die, but my cousins keep getting married, so I see them about once a year when one of us has a wedding.

We ate, then Jacob and I walked down the hill to the house I lived in when I was in middle school. I pointed out the window that used to belong to me and the rusty swing-set that's still in the backyard where I used to sit every sunny day. I told him about how my dad painted the numbers on the metal mailbox that's still at the end of the driveway and how the foundation of the house has lyrics from High School Musical songs on it. Back then my mom told me I should write something that means something to me on our foundation; her and my Nanny wrote bible verses and I wrote lyrics from the best Disney Channel Original movie that's ever existed.

By the time we got back from our walk, it was time for fireworks, and the whole bridal party from Danielle's wedding joined us for pyromania and ice cream. As I watched the colorful sparks flying through the sky, I couldn't help thinking about how different everything was now. Danielle sat with her soon-to-be husband and my cousin Mandi was flirting with one of the groomsmen. I held hands with Jacob while my cousin Abby talked to my Nanny behind us.

It doesn't seem so long ago that we were all young and restless on the fourth of July. We'd always eat hot dogs and demand the biggest fireworks show our grandparents could provide for us that year. This year, I sat beneath the fire wondering what everyone found so entertaining about fireworks in the first place. I wanted the excitement from my childhood back, but more than that, I wanted to go to bed.

The next day, the big day, I woke up early to assist Mandi with her makeup. More specifically, her eyelashes. I guess I'm the only one in our family who has any clue about how to put on fake eyelashes, and rather than watching a YouTube tutorial she wanted me to come show her how to do it.

Jacob and I drove somewhere I never thought I would go again. A place I once held a lot of animosity towards and that has always felt more like a nightmare than a reality. We went to the church I went to as a child.

Now, before you start thinking I'm being super dramatic about a religious building, let me just remind you that this building was my school and church. It also mistreated my family and taught me that not everyone is always welcome in church. This church is one of the reasons I don't regularly go to one now. When my family needed love it shut us out. I'm sorry if that offends any of my readers who knows of the place I'm talking about, but I won't be retracting my feelings on the place. However, I won't be naming the place for the sake of the people I care about who do still go there or are affiliated with the place.

There, now that that's out of the way, we can finish the story.

Jacob and I parked in the parking lot outside of the house I grew up in. I stared at it as we pulled up and thought of all the pain I felt in that house. I thought about crying until I was red in the face and clinging to my mom's legs as she pulled her suitcase out of the door. I thought about all the pets we buried in the backyard and the night I woke up and my mom was just gone. I thought about the neglect I went through and the mud pies I made in the yard; the old woman who lived next door and how her house is now just a field of clovers.

My Childhood Home

We looked at the house for a while and I couldn't believe how small the house is. In my head, it was swallowing me whole and towering over me as clouds swirled above in the sky. The house is just a house; more like a shack, actually. It's not big and scary and it was a cloudless afternoon.

Then Jacob and I went into the church where the wedding was going to be taking place. Even after 12 years, I still know the church like the back of my hand, though they added two ugly metal buildings to the layout. In my humble opinion, it was a bad decision.

We waited in the foyer outside the bathroom Danielle and her bridesmaids were going to be getting ready in. While we were waiting for Mandi to finally show up, we walked around and joked about things that were probably not appropriate to joke about in a church. Jacob pointed out a wall to me with pictures of their current ministers and ministers that had either worked there before who were now preaching somewhere else or of those who grew up in the church and became ministers as adults. I wasn't surprised when my dad's photograph wasn't up on the wall with the others. I made sure to text him a picture and tell him that, yes, after 12 years, they still don't like him.

Mandi finally arrived and I showed her how to apply her lashes, then Jacob and I went home to fix the broken air conditioner in my car.

Later that evening, we were back at the church only this time in nicer clothing and with family. We said a few jokes and waited in anticipation for the wedding to begin. Then the music started playing. Mandi looked gorgeous minus the eyelashes I drove 15 minutes to tell her how to apply. Apparently, she simply didn't want to put them on when it came down to it, and that's okay. Then Danielle started walking down the aisle and everyone stood to bask in her beauty, and she did look beautiful.

This was the moment I knew I wasn't going to be writing about the wedding this week. The wedding wasn't quite as important as the marriage and what her marriage, what Caleb's marriage last year, and what Tyler's wedding coming up in the fall signifies: our childhood is over. It's something I've known for a long time, but I've spent years holding on to bitterness leftover from the painful childhood I had.

It was only three months ago when I decided I didn't want to hate anymore and I sat down and talked to my mom. It was the first time we had really talked. She listened while I told her what life was like for me; the PTSD, the suicidal thoughts I had, and how I had finally found an outlet for all of my pain. She listened, she apologized, and we agreed to an adult relationship. There's nothing she can do to make up for the things she did when I was a kid, but she can do her best to be a mom now. As much as I needed a mom then, I'm not about to turn down a functional relationship with the woman who birthed me in the present.

It felt now like all the bombs had stopped dropping.

I don't have to be anxious about family gatherings anymore, or worried about whether or not my mom's family is going to accept the person I am or not. WHO REALLY CARES IF THEY DO OR DON'T? I am an adult and if they don't, then that's their loss. I'm going to be honest though, I think they really do care about me, even though at one time or another I've questioned it.

In a way, we all said goodbye this week. Taylor said goodbye to a furry friend, Jacob said goodbye to his family for another three weeks, and I said goodbye to my childhood. It's really hard to say goodbye and let go sometimes, but in most cases it's the best thing for you. Taylor plans on getting a new dog soon, but in the mean time, she's starting a new job and looking for a new place to live. She's living on despite her loss. Jacob is back at work today. Last night he showed me a picture of his little sister fishing and told me he still misses her, but he's excited to see her when he goes back home. I think more than anything he was relieved she hadn't forgotten him yet. It brought him some peace as he will be moving to Wichita in August and out of his dad's house for good. As for me, I'm going to keep writing about my childhood, but I'm not going to let it consume me like it used to. It was painful, but it's over. It was time to say goodbye.