Wow. What a weekend that was. And not completely for positive reasons.
So this doesn’t get confusing, I have two best friends. One (Lo) I have known since I was 5, went all through school together and at the grand old age of 31 we’re still friends (maybe not as close as we once were but I digress). The other, is my godmother’s daughter. Thrown together by the close proximity of our homes and our mum’s friendship, we became pen-pals as early teens and developed a friendship of our own as we got older.
On Friday, Lo’s dad passed away. He’d been ill with lung cancer, so whilst it was expected, it was still an awful piece of news to receive. You instantly feel for the family and your love for them, wanting to help them cope and wondering what to say. At just 31, my thought was that we shouldn’t have to taking part in these life changing moments just yet, we’re too young, and our parents are too young. Of course, then you think about your own family and how you want to wrap them up in the cotton wool, never to leave you. The human mind and emotions it feels is a funny old thing.
Saturday evening was spent with Lo’s family. It was an evening of tears, sometimes sobs, chocked words and then some laughter, peace and positive words. Her mum said repeatedly, “We’ll be OK, I’ve got the best kids you could ask for.” So accurate and true. The four of them, aged 31-18, seemed more adults then a group of 60 year olds. They have their roles defined by the person they are, their age in the group and the way they deal with emotion and the unbelievable grief they must be feeling.
On Sunday, my phone rang at 10:30am. It was La. My initial thought was, it’s too early on a Sunday and she’s probably called me by mistake, so I ignored and went back to sleep. When she rang again at 11am, I wondered if something was wrong. Forgive me, but given the news I had received two days earlier, I thought the worst. La said she had something to ask me “Will you be my bridesmaid?” Even in my half asleep state, this registered in mind as THE BEST NEWS EVER, she was engaged! I screamed and then teared up a little bit and then screamed again. I’ve never been a bridesmaid. Or a bride for that matter. My instant thought was how long have I got to lose some weight. Then a bit of anxiety. Will I have to do a speech? Will I have to organise a hen do? When will it be?
During my pub crawl on Sunday I hovered between hysterical crying and hysterical crying, both of utter sadness and utter happiness. The amount I drank probably didn’t help, but in my mind I needed to block out both emotions. I didn’t want to feel the pain surrounding death, the selfishness I felt of feeling I was lucky it wasn’t my parents and the utter helplessness I felt for my friend. I also didn’t want to feel the delight of my friend’s impending nuptials, being a bridesmaid or the selfishness of wondering when I would be getting married and why my boyfriend hadn’t proposed to me.
Needless to say I spent most of Monday hungover, with the worst case of alcohol anxiety ever for feeling those feels. I suppose my point of writing this post is because I can’t share these feelings out loud with people I know without sounding like a spoilt, emotional child.