My eldest child got married on Friday. I think that is what has got me feeling all emotional. Clearly I am no longer the most important woman in his life.
He called Friday afternoon and said "Mom, um, I am married." Just like that.
He's in prison, you know. Apparently he and the missus applied for the privilage of marrying about six weeks ago, but they kept the application a secret. In prison one must seek permission for these things, but one needn't tell one's mother. Not that I'm bitter.
They were not notified that the application had been approved until The Very Day. Allura (that's my daughter-in-law) got a call asking her to show up in 45 minutes for her wedding. Michael was unaware of his impending nuptuals until he was shown into a room where he found his beloved and a preacher awaiting his arrival. I'm told he blanched absolutely white. Gathering his shakey wits, he was evidently able to rise to the challenge, and so they took the requisite vows. Voila: man and wife.
He was a baby a minute ago.
I love them.
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