I worship my mother. She’s smart, funny, annoyingly good at most things she does, determined, stylish, everything. And I’m still kind of scared of her. We’re talking about a woman who booked the date of my wedding before I even knew I was going to get married. That’s right—between the time that my soon-to-be-fiance Steve asked for my parents’ blessing and the time that he actually popped the question, Mom made a few phone calls. She already knew she wanted the wedding to take place in the fall. Many years earlier, she had told me this, and I had casually mentioned it to Steve in one of my casual reminders during the home stretch of our five-year courtship that I was ready to move forward. When he spoke to my parents, Mom asked what time of year he was thinking for a wedding.
“Fall?” Steve said.
“What a great idea!” she said. Of course it was a great idea—it was her idea. Keep reading »