My Flower Girl Got Married

During my high school years, like many teenage girls, I was an avid babysitter. Friday and Saturday nights were often spent playing with children, getting them fed and into bed, and then eating junk food in front of the TV until the parents came home. Of course, as high school life got busier, babysitting became less of a priority (although the money it provided did not!). Once I got to senior year, I only took jobs from my "favorite" families and there was one in particular for whom I would re-arrange my schedule, if needed.

I had started sitting for this family when their older child, a girl, was about two years old. She was a well-behaved, funny, inquisitive little girl. We played and played and practiced numbers and she amazed me with how smart she was. One memory that stands out was one time after I had finished changing her diaper; she was sitting on the changing table and started to play with one of the earrings I was wearing. These were big earrings, shaped and decorated like globes (one of many sets of "signature accessories" in my collection in the late '80s). She gently took the earring out of my ear. As she looked at it, I pointed to the general vicinity of Chicago.

"We live in Chicago," I said. "Can you say, Chicago?"
"Chicago," she repeated.
"Chicago is in the United States," I explained, showing her the country on the globe.
"'Nited States," she replied.

I showed her other countries and then asked where we live. "The 'Nited States." We played this game for a good long while and then I put my earring back in my ear and put her to bed. Imagine her parents' surprise a few days later when she pointed to a map and said, "We live in the 'Nited States!"

When her baby brother was born, I was the very first person to care for him while his parents were out (even before grandma!). After I went to college, the parents would invite me over for dinner when I was home, just so the kids and I could see each other. During those years, when my friends and I entertained ourselves by planning our imaginary weddings (which none of us would have for years yet), I wasn't sure about dresses or china, but I knew for sure that this little girl and little boy would be my flower girl and ring bearer some day.

That little girl got married this past week-end. And I guess she's not so little, as she's working on an advanced degree in some sort of impressive scientific field. I had wanted to go to the ceremony, but ended up spending the day sick in bed. Maybe it's just as well. As thrilled as I would have been to see the woman she has become and celebrate the love she's found, there's something about seeing your flower girl get married before you do that could be a little, well, painful. I told some people at church about this situation, my flower girl getting married before me. I opined that she probably wouldn't want the job any more. "Well," one well-meaning parishioner said, "maybe her daughter could be your flower girl some day."

Not helpful.

But maybe some day she'll be playing with her little girl while getting her changed and ready for bed and will have a memory of a teenager who gave her attention, patience and care, and taught her the very important lesson that we live in the 'Nited States.

And maybe some day we will get to sit down over a cup of coffee and both be pleased to see the woman that the other has become.