Ever since yesterday, which was 30 days (!) Europe’s The Final Countdown has been running through my head nonstop. I think I need a serious dance party to that tonight.

So, 30 days. 30 days. Wow. Yesterday was a pretty amazing day to mark the occasion. My gracious future mother in law came into the city, where we had lunch and hit Anthropologie in a big way. We started off by poking our heads into Lovely, a new bridal salon. I wish they opened 6 months ago, as it’s my kind of place. Great neighborhood (mine!), well edited collection from some big name designers and handmade stunners. (Elizabeth Dye, I’m looking at you.) It’s very low key with a great range of price points. I especially liked that you could see Sarah Stevens and Elizabeth Dye dresses, without having to make the investment somewhat blindly.

I ended the day on a rooftop Manhattan with one of my unbridesmaids to finish off a bottle of pink bubbly leftover from the bachelorette. We recapped the evening and my last weekend in Noho. I came home to the mister and we went over a wonderful Margaret Atwood poem his friend may read. We’ve asked him to find readings. The poem is simple, but layered and really hit an emotional note.

The day ended with happy tears and smiles, but also a heavy heart. I’m also having some angst about a serious guest list faux pas I committed. It’s really it’s own blog entry. But I fear I’ve hurt a friend, and in doing so ended a friendship.

I’ve found a whole tribe of men and women who are planning in the face of sadness. But what about strained relationships? Or not very close ones? I’m not terribly close with my mom. She’s a difficult and complicated person. I’ve made some choices in my life that put some space between us. Since our engagement, we’ve been talking a few times a week, up from once a week. It’s bringing to light all the differences and unresolved issues we’ve had over the years.

My mom has been loving and supportive all my life; she has contributed to shape me into the person I am- but you can’t choose your family. We have a lot of hurt and as repressed Irish Catholics – we keep it in. We can’t find the words to express our true feelings and when we finally summon the courage to do- it’s a emotionally fraught exchange. I’ve learned that my mom is the way she is after 60 years and that’s a lot of undoing of a lot of hurt and psychology that won’t happen in the next three months.

I’ve been rereading the Conscious Bride, especially the sections of letting go and poking around the Mother’s Hut online*. I’ve found it helpful to think about what my mother may be feeling. There have been tiffs over the color I picked for my sisters dress, classic example of the hard to name feelings that we’ve been having.

I’ve been very independent of my mother for many year now, and I feel sad that we aren’t very close. All the television programs out there show mothers and daughters saying yes to the dress together, going over flower arrangements and tastings. I’ve been doing that largely alone or with Bryan, or just outsourcing. And all of that’s fine. It’s just details, but magnifying our fraught relationship. I wish that we were closer, to spend more of this time together. Or even just to be able to talk about our feelings, but there is just a lot of distance between us. Getting married will change our relationship, perhaps not in the immediate but in the future. Bryan and I may move farther away, certainly when we have children. These are complicated emotions for me to navigate, and I imagine they are for my mother.

These unresolved issues are magnified- I am reliving years of my life, feeling sadness, disappointment, hurt in the span of weeks. And I’m not quite sure how to handle it. These are issues that have been below the surface for many years, just pushed aside or ignored. I’m challenged to learn how to navigate the next three months, which already seem more stressful**. I want her to understand my expectations for this remaining time and I want for her to communicate them to me. At the very least, get us to somewhere in the middle, where we can enjoy this time together and be celebratory. A place where our actions and their meaning, come from a place of love and respect.

*and sending dear mom some articles
** 'cause the BIG DAY is coming