If falling down is always a part of life then give me something I haven’t seen yet. I never pictured myself on the floor of a dressing room, in my wedding dress, broken down and resentful. Not because of my soon-to-be husband, Michael, but because of something that was supposed to fix my life. Instead, I feel like it has ruined everything.
I wanted to look as pretty as I possibly could for my wedding. It’s only something I dreamed of having since I was a little girl with my mother. All because of a small piece of skin, I couldn’t get married.
See the funny thing about skin is that, not only is it the outside surface of our person, but it keeps us protected from falling apart. Without skin, we are merely a piled mess of pulsating blood covered organs. More importantly, without skin I couldn’t kiss Michael. Michael was everything to me and that was exactly the reason I was broken down on the floor, seconds away from my last moment as Jennifer Riley in the singular fashion. My name would have been Mrs. Jennifer Gould.
Back to the whole skin ordeal, Michael suggested that I get the mark on my face removed surgically for my wedding. Actually, we kind of both decided that I should get that hideous mark off of my face for my wedding day. I would have something to wine about if they had done a bad job or if I had an even worse red mark from the surgery, but they actually did an impressive job. Not a single fiber of skin was out of place or irritated. My smile still wrinkled in the same upward direction and Michael would have loved it if he could see it. With the surgery just being finished a week ago and the bandage on the new skin for that entire time – I hadn’t looked at my new face.
It wasn’t until I was talking to Gina-Robyn, my Maid of Honor, in the back room of the church. She said I looked so beautiful and made me look into the mirror to see the new me for the first time. She was right. I did look good. I know I will never be a super model with my loose love handles and short stature, but I did look better with the surgery.
After I took a glance in the mirror, at the stranger staring back at me, I touched my left cheek where the old scar on my face used to be. It made me think about all of my other ones.
I said, “I got this one when I was first learning to ride my bike.”
I pointed where the discolored scar showed on my shin.
“I wish I could say that it was the first time I had ever ridden a bike, but it wasn’t. I was riding with my mom down the bike path in Adam’s Farm. They had just paved the bike path and I was riding too fast down a hill…Well, you can see what happened after that hill.”
Gina-Robyn was doing a good job just listening and she motioned to Haley and Joyce to do the same.
I took off my something blue wedding shoes and showed the girls my next one.
“We were at the bowling alley, my mom and I, when all of the sudden I thought it was a good idea to show off in front of the boys in the other lane. I danced with a fifth-teen pounder over my head, waving it like a helicopter or something.”
A tear came from my eyes and I tried to laugh it off.
“When the ball twisted my wrist too hard and I ended up dropping it, all I could think about was if the boys were watching. My big toe nail will probably never forgive me, or grow back for that matter.”
The room shared what seemed like a relieving laugh, except for me.
I touched my cheek again, even though my scar wasn’t there anymore. “I remember standing in the Wal-Mart customer service line and it was late, 11:11 pm to be exact. We had just finished Christmas shopping and some of the coupons didn’t go through. We walked out, finishing a conversation about how I was starting to like boys and that my boobs were getting bigger.”
I could hear the crowd in my dressing room crying before I could even finish the story.
“My mom and I always played a footsy-kind of game in parking lots. Basically, I would look at her feet and try to copy her footsteps. I was keeping up pretty good until my mom started doing a two-step, stopping, and switching feet, just to get me to laugh as I tried to keep up and failed. She did that a lot – make me laugh. We loaded up the trunk with groceries when all of the sudden the gentleman beside us opened his door too wide. The corner of his green truck’s door made a deep scratch into the side of our car. My mom and I were startled and we went over to look at the damages. I wanted to scream at the older man for his careless mistake. But my mom said it was okay and that’s what happens to cars sometimes.”
I sat up a little straighter because if my mom came in right now, she’d tell me it wasn’t lady-like to sit hunched over. That’s when the priest came to join my little listening group. I guess he was kind of wondering if this thing, my beautiful wedding, was going to happen. I don’t know why I continued, but I did.
“On our car ride home, my mom talked to me about boys, emotions, tampons, sex, and condoms. It was something that could have been very awkward, but with my mom it wasn’t. I remember every single word of what she said. We stayed in a comfortable silence for awhile and then finally she said, “Jen...Do you see why I didn’t get upset with the gentleman who hit our car today? I did that because this car is just an object. Something I owned to get me from point A to point B. This car has never won the library award or voted best junior golfer in the county or was my life partner when your dad left. You are all those things and much more. All I care about is making the people I love know that I love them and that I’d do anything for them. I hope you will be the same way when you get older. Plus, a little scratch on a new car adds character.” She said everything to me driving home from Wal-Mart in her scarred up car. I told my mom I loved her and rested my head on the door. After all, it was a very long day for both of us.”
Still in the dressing room, I rubbed the spot on my face where my character building scratch used to be.
“My mother looked over, with her hands brushing the hair back to my neck. It’s like I can still hear her whispering I love you into my ear. At twelve years old, I was old enough to know that at night we followed the red lights and the pale yellow lights were supposed to be on our left side.”
I tried not to break down.
“That’s why I was wondering why the pale yellow light was on our side. The driver of the car heading straight towards us was named Andrew Nicholas Bryant. Andrew’s pale yellow light was driving fast and right for us. The only thing I can remember before and after the collision was my mother’s hand pushing me back into the seat as she slammed on the brakes. She pushed the seatbelt right against my body. My mother died with her eyes open.”
Nobody’s tear drops could have helped me walk down that aisle without seeing my mother in the church. I have many scars, but the only one that brings me back into the car with her was the one that was no longer there.
Gina-Robyn was the first person to squat down and wrap her arms around me, then Haley, and finally Joyce. After a few sentimental moments of me breaking down with my bridesmaids, I was left with only the priest and a face without a scar.
“Long day huh?”
I cry-giggled and said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“You know it’s a relief, hearing that story.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Michael is out there having a fit. Wondering if you are having cold feet or worse…running away feet.”
I laughed again.
“Jennifer, after your mother’s accident, do you remember the day Mrs. Caison came to pick you up from Child Services?”
“Yeah.”
“Sarah Caison took one good look at you and said that’s the one.”
I finally looked him in the eyes and smiled.
He continued, “Your mother was a great person who could never be replaced by someone else or something else. The old scar used to remind you of your mother and how much you missed her, but it is never good enough, right?”
He was right, but I didn’t want to agree with anything.
“I know that you want her here today and I promise you that I want her here too. Jennifer, you have three hundred people in that church to see you get married. They’re here to be with you on this special day. It’s the day that you marry Michael and become Mrs. Jennifer Gould.”
I couldn’t stop crying. I was listening to what he said, but I still didn’t want to walk in that room. “I love my adopted mother, I really do. But I can’t help it that I want my real mother here and now my only reminder of her is gone.”
“I understand. But let me tell you something about having a baby. No matter how much they try, the parents cannot choose the color of the baby’s hair. They cannot choose the gender the baby will have. They can’t even choose whether the baby is going to be right or left handed. But when it comes to adoption, someone gets to choose their child. That child is chosen from many others. The parents had the freedom of choosing any child they wanted, and Sarah chose to pick you out of the line up.”
The priest looked down at me with a contagious smile.
“Jennifer, adoption is like being a Christian. The lord has chosen you. It’s up to you whether you accept his invitation or not. And I know that no one could ever replace your mother, but remember your mother will always be with you. Not in the teddy bears she used to give you. Not in the make-up you used to share together. Not even in the Christmas list that you still keep. All of that stuff is just stuff. Your scars are just scars. You don’t need any of those things to remember your mom. You already have them stored in your memories. There’s no reason to have this stuff stop you from something you know to be true. You and Michael are made for each other. Make those kinds of memories with him too. I promise your mom will share space in your mind for him. I can tell she likes him. Because I don’t know a single bachelor who would stand on that stage, an hour after the wedding was supposed to start, and still have the strength to remain somewhat calm.”
I wiped off the dried wells I had for eyelids and stood up from the floor. That day I decided to walk down the aisle, even without the fancy organ playing. I didn’t have that perfect entrance I had planned on, months in advance, but all I needed to see was the brush of a pale yellow light through the Church’s center window and then I saw Michael.
