Sunny Side Up Oct.23, 2002 �2002, Kathleen Gibson Taking time for recovery For the last several weeks, I�ve overlooked, ignored, neglected, snapped at, or otherwise behaved uncharacteristically toward family, friends, pets, and editors for whom I usually have all the time in the world. I�ve also forgotten how to return a phone call, mail a letter, write articles, take care of a house, prepare a meal. I�m blaming pre-wedding dementia. It�s not in the Compendium of Psychological Ailments, but I�m writing the publishers to have it included. I hear Road Rage is there�surely a paragraph or two could be spared for pre-wedding dementia. I�ll write the definition myself. Pre-wedding dementia: a temporary mental state, usually triggered by the appearance of a diamond on the female left hand, which renders the brains of involved adult females incapable of organized non-nuptial thought. The condition worsens immediately prior to the wedding date, but is alleviated rapidly by the witnessing of the official utterances �I do� and �I will�. I witnessed those �official utterances� as my daughter and her (now) husband gazed into each other�s eyes and repeated them after the Preacher. The knot is tied. Sealed with a kiss. Officially. Which surely means that I am now a pre-wedding dementia survivor. I will again become involved in life outside the wedding chapel. I�ll know how to perform simple tasks, how to relate to family and friends, pets and editors. How to dress myself. I�m especially looking forward to that. The week before the wedding was the worst. One day I forgot to dress completely�galloped about in my pyjamas till mid-day, just leaping from task to task. On another I tumbled into bed in the wee hours, exhausted. When I woke the next morning I was still fully clothed. And while undressing on the tail end of the wedding day, I found that that the full-length half slip I�d borrowed for the occasion was missing. For one horrified moment I genuinely thought I�d become so wedding-addled that I�d not noticed its downward trek; that I�d merely stepped out of the white lace puddle and kept motoring. That everyone conspired not to tell me. I prayed the slip hadn�t slipped halfway down the aisle; speculated for a moment which usher may have removed it before the bride�s entry. Then good sense took over and I recalled that I�d been so busy dressing the bride in the morning that I�d paid scant attention to my own outfit�thankfully a dark and heavy satin. Sure enough, the thing was precisely where I�d left it the evening before. As I write, the newlyweds are still on their honeymoon. Unopened wedding gifts and cancelled to-do lists surround me. But this morning I did two things I had trouble finding time for a week ago. I got dressed, and I sat down with my Bible and prayer book. And God, who walked me through the wedding day; who understands things like pre-wedding dementia, welcomed me there. It�s so nice to be in recovery. If you have your own memories of pre-wedding dementia, email me at [email protected] |