My cousin's daughter's was married, and weeks before the big event, I received an invitation to attend the wedding party! Friday, April 14 comes quick, and I hesitate to go, because I don't know the bride. But I am free on this night, and the desire to attend chips away at my heart.
I contact two other cousins who live close by and ask them to accompany me. It appears they have the same hesitations, because neither of them choose to attend. But I can't dismiss that I want to go, maybe even need to go. I contemplate attending on my own, because Tony is even more family-distant and reticent.
After all the dismissiveness, I make it to the party, and what a party! After greeting my delightful cousins, my beloved aunt now confined to a wheelchair, I am filled, rejuvenated, and so, so grateful I attended. Family connections and love have reminded me of the past and the importance of the present.
Why did I even hesitate to attend?
It seems I do a lot of hesitation which leads to missing out on gatherings like the one above.
A neighbor's son dies and I have the same dismissive feelings, mostly because I didn't know the son. It isn't until the last minute on a Saturday morning when I go to Tony (still reading in bed), and insist we attend. We shower, dress, and make it on time. When we see the bereaved mother, when our hearts connect with hers, when she understands we are there out of concern for her, we are grateful.
With such renewed love and joy from the two experiences, I can hardly bear to look back on all the other occasions when I dismissed the importance of attending or reaching out. Not for other people, but for myself. Because I needed to care. I needed to make the effort. I needed other people when I told myself I didn't.