Earl, Fiona, and what could become Gaston?

Ah weather...there's a very inspiring prayer that's been attributed to a Protestant cleric, Reinhold Niebuhr - "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference." So today I'm praying for acceptance, because weather falls into that category. If a hurricane, any one of the three listed above which sound more like a Disney animated film than a storm, happens to land on our wedding, we have a back-up plan. Everyone will go to the rooftop terrace in town and huddle in the small rehearsal space. There is a kitchen there, in the back, and so if our caterer can make it, we'll have food. If not, we'll have our just desserts!

Yesterday I was crying in Whole Foods. Not because I was losing a daughter, or gaining a son. Really, that's pretty lame, after all, you never really lose a child. They are always there in the back of your mind or the pit of your stomach, rummaging around at the most inopportune times. You could be chopping carrots and wondering why your son is getting headaches. You could be watering the garden and wishing your daughter would highlight her hair! They even creep into your dreams, these adult children. But when my soon-to-be- bride called me in Whole Foods, to tell me she had been offered the Chief Resident position next year in Emergency Medicine, I was just beaming with pride in front of the bakery section. I could hear her elation over the phone, her joy, and I basked in her splendor. What an honor, how marvelous of her attendings to think she has the right stuff - but of course she does, she is my girl who stands with hands on hips! And I said, "But did you tell him you're getting married this week and want to have a baby this year?" She laughed, "No, Mom," she said. I wanted to hold her, and since I couldn't over these damnable cell phones, I gave her a virtual hug and hung up and promptly started crying over the pecan chocolate chip cookies.

I asked my husband if he'd still love me if I had a meltdown and started crying randomly in grocery stores. A couple of years ago, after losing my sense of smell due to a bad cold (ah, the virulent perks of being married to an ER physician), my nose started sniffing once again in the coffee aisle of Harris Tetter. Before that, if I could smell anything, like maybe a skunk, it smelled like rotten meat. My ENT doc said this happens - don't you just love the Martha's Vineyard car sticker that says "Fog Happens" - and that sometimes cranial nerves will regrow. Well, I'd given up hope since it had been a year and a half and 20 days... Food tasted like warm or cold mush; life almost wasn't worth living. So when the smell of coffee wafted up around me, I just started bawling. Just like that. I'm Irish, I'll cry when I'm happy and hold a grudge for forever! You try losing your sense of smell; I was one happy coffee shopper.

So they will both be Chiefs next year; the groom in Medicine, and applying for fellowships, and his bride in that specialty where every virus around will come home to him! Maybe they will land back in my state? Maybe not. But this year falls into the category of something I wouldn't change for the world!