The Balancing Act

My nephew tied the knot a few months ago bringing his mother and two aunts to a point where we could, very soon, step over into becoming grandmothers. The wedding was beautiful. There were very few dry eyes during the ceremony. Clearly, so much love filled the church that day.

Weddings always bring to mind our own. At least that's the way it is for me. I can't help recalling snippets of my own special day and sometimes it's the little things I remember so vividly: the scratching of the stiff lining at the bottom of my gown, the way Bobby (my husband's cousin-in-law) kept stepping on the train of my gown as we walked to the reception area, not remembering what was served afterward. And always, at the end of the whole affair, I think of how the bride must take the time to enjoy that state of being married before the children start coming in.

For all the romance that surrounds the idea of marriage, there is the reality that soon after the wedding, the woman makes the transition from blushing bride to everyday wifehood and later on, to motherhood. It is, after all, the natural order of things. I would have preferred to use a word other than natural because as it turns out, that progression of things doesn't come easily to all women. In point of fact, it takes some women forever to get over being the blushing bride even when there already are babies begging for attention. And then there's the balancing act of holding on to who you are and becoming the kind of wife you think you ought to be. And then, another feat of magic is called for when you have to jump into the motherhood arena while not forgetting to swing back to being the bride your husband looks forward to seeing when he comes home. No easy feat this whole wife and mother business.

My sisters and friends our age are now at that stage where we look back at the things we did and how we did them. We're also at that age where we long to resurrect who we once were so many lifetimes ago, before we became mothers, before we agreed to share a lifetime with a significant other, before we learned to put family's needs ahead of our own. Some women actually find their voice at this stage in their lives. Some rediscover their passions and once again pick up the paintbrush, or sit at the piano, or learn pilates or yoga.

We still have the husband and the children, of course, but at this stage, things aren't as complicated anymore. At least that's how it seems to be with me. The children are old enough to see to their own needs; my husband and I, having gone through several roller coaster rides, now float along on an even keel, comfortable in our own skins and with each other, knowing when to move an inch or so, so that the ride is never dull but will never be treacherous either.

This balancing act women take on seems to have no end in sight. We move from one role to another--sometimes seamlessly, sometimes with much fanfare, sometimes even with reluctance or blatant protestations. But no matter what manner we choose to go about it, this really, is what we do.