My 25 year old cousin is getting married. As luck, and God, and good grace should have it, she has met the one, and she is the one for him. In the last couple of weeks we have scanned wedding magazines, examined venues, and finally picked the all important wedding dress. It is an unspeakable joy to share in this amazing time in her life; but a burden as well.
I can't help but think of Alice in Wonderland standing in the mirror looking in and finding out that she could actually step inside. In real life the looking glass is invisible and stepping in is more in line with being a witness. I am a witness, not a participant. As time goes by I am the engagement party host, the wedding guest, the pseudo aunt to the new baby. I am the girl on the side of the picture, peeking in just before the flash.
Somehow, the life I daydreamed about for the last three decades has passed me by. The next generation in the family has started living, loving and procreating, while I've simply existed.
When I was young, I was the good girl. I listened to my mother, I tried to keep to a moral code, I didn't push the envelope, and truly believed that if I followed the rules I would be rewarded with the life that comes with all of the accouterments of proper living. As it turns out, I was wrong. Many of the girls who broke the rules are now married with children.
It has become my lot in life to stand on the other side looking in. As time has passed on I find myself spreading congratulations when someone gets engaged, hunting gifts when someone gets married, picking out onesies and baby toys for the new sweet little person who has entered this world. Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that so many people with joyous occasions are in my life and that I am allowed to share in their magnificent wealth of love and joy. But ever so often when the world slows enough for me to sit back, and the quiet is enough for me to hear my own thoughts, I am left to wonder about looking at the pictures instead of being in them.
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