Weddings R Us

I just don't get it. What's all the brouhaha about?

Prince William got married. Whoop-dee-doo!

"But he's ROYALTY!" you exclaim.

Really? I hadn't noticed. You see, I'm over here in Whoville polishing my own crown. Oh, I may not live in a palace and have servants at my command. Nor will I ever see the flash of cameras in my face due to my notoriety. And the fairy tale? Exactly! It's a fairy tale.

Where are the cameras for the kids down the street who just got married? They don't have a pot to... well, you know the saying. And maybe their cake came from the local supermarket and the bride's dress was a hand-me-down. I am certain there was no horse-drawn carriage. I think they might have arrived in a 1992 Taurus. And the wedding portraits? Probably taken by family members. Does that make their wedding any less relevant?

It seems to me that the same vows were exchanged in front of God and witnesses. And for all the hoo-ha surrounding the 'royal' wedding (not to mention the expense that could perhaps feed a small country for weeks, maybe years), the kids are just as married as the 'royal' couple.

It is only humankind that makes one more valuable than the other. Self-proclaimed royal standing can be a double-edged sword. "But it's their lineage," you say. Really? We all need to go back in our own histories and seek royal standing. I am certain we can find it.

I see you roll your eyes. What do I know anyway?

This I know...

When I was conceived I was not the whim of a careless Creator. Of all the billions of humans who have ever lived, are living and who will ever live, I am unique. There is no one like me.

I am more precious than silver or gold or any title that man could give me. I am fearfully and wonderfully made by a Loving God who lifts AND carries my burdens and then comforts me in the darkest of nights.

I am a living, breathing miracle... A Child of God. I claim this title because He told me I could. And if I believe this of myself, then I have to believe those kids down the street are equally important to God as well. And yes, the newly married William and Kate too.

I have no quarrels with the royal family. I respect their positions as leaders of their country. I just don't buy into the "royal' image that is being shoved down our throats over it. It was a wedding, period. I wish them well.

The way the media spins its tales, I'm thinking the kids down the street have a better chance of hanging in there for the long haul. And when exactly was it that the lives of people we don't know and never will know are public domain? Have we digressed so much as a species that our own lives are of little or no importance in comparison to those of celebrity? And we have to live extraneously through our televisions and computer screens to visually eavesdrop on others? Downright nosy if you ask me. And no, you didn't! Well, enough of that. I'm probably just miffed that I didn't get an invitation. So as you see, I made my own!

For now I need to go... I left that crown sitting over there on the table. It won't polish itself, you know. Oh yeah... and Congratulations to the kids down the street. May you be blessed.

(I chose this picture because this is what it's all about... the look of love passed between two people.)

Mothers Are Precious

I wanted to write something witty and pretty and bright about mothers. Instead... I give you this.

"She might die," Social Services said, "but we will pay for the expenses." But you took me home anyway.

I had rickets, a deficiency of vitamin D and calcium. You fed me foods I hated. I spit them out. You shoved them back in my mouth. You would not give up.

I became stronger but still could not walk until I was nearly 4-1/2 years old. You were told sunshine would help tremendously and so you carried me outside every chance you got. I was by your side as you hung the clothes out on the line. I was in a wagon as you went out to do the chores. Your determination was fearless.

Because I couldn't engage in activities with other children, you occupied the rest of my time with playing school. I could both read and write by the time I was three... at a third grade level. There were no excuses for 'bad grades.'

On those rare occasions that you decided to have fun, you brought out your accordion and played beautiful music and sang. I would clap my hands and sing too. You were so beautiful to me when you were playing.

My constant ear infections kept you up until all hours. And I remember you rocking me and singing, comforting me and telling me that everything would be all right. I felt safe in your arms.

When I finally got to the point that I began walking, you wouldn't let up. We would go for 'walks' out the back, up into the woods. I couldn't keep up and felt afraid that I might get lost. But there you were coaxing me along, pushing me ever harder. You wouldn't take no for an answer.

As my fifth birthday approached in the sweltering heat, you were readying me for my first day of school. I was so excited. I can still remember the smell of that book bag and the paste we used back then. That old one-room schoolhouse served me well. And my first grade teacher would be a person who would come and go in and out of my life for years to come.

You hugged me when I needed it and whipped my butt when I needed that too. You tolerated zero disrespect. You drove home lessons on right and wrong and you told me I could do anything I set my mind to doing.

When I was stubborn and ill-mannered I faced the consequences. I never had the luxury of having my own room or privacy. We made do with what we had. We wasted nothing. I learned frugality and the benefits of hard work. And all those lessons have bore fruit.

I think sometimes how hard it must have been for you. The country was just coming out of the Depression. If we think the economy is bad now, it was so much worse then.

And yet for the most part, there was food on the table and clothes on our backs. We didn't have much, but then we really didn't want much either. It was a better time, a slower time. One that sticks with you like oatmeal.

I could never bear children. I always felt left out that way. But God in his heaven has his plans. Children for me weren't in those plans. I've always thought I might have been a good Mama. But then, who knows, huh?

Thank you for the lessons learned, the fevers cured, the painstaking determination that you could help me to get well. You saved my life... and you gave me a home. Your sacrifices were many and your complaints few. I am grateful and forever in your debt.

Happy Mother's Day, Mama. I love you.