Coquette: ‘It will be different at your wedding. Trust me, this is Godfather-level shizz. I guarantee your dad will keep your uncle in line,’ and how to deal with wedding day family dynamics.
Dear Coquette,
My dad died of mesothelioma a year-and-a-half ago.
But that’s not why I’m writing.
I need advice on whether or not to invite my dad’s brother, my uncle and godfather, to my wedding this coming June.
The night before my dad’s funeral back in July 2008, my uncle (who is what is referred to as a “dry drunk”) said some extremely hurtful things to my mother, and ever since then he and my mom have been passively-aggressively feuding. (If you can even call it feuding — it’s more like they’ve been silently hating each other.)
But my wedding is coming up next June — and his daughter is going to be standing up as one of my bridesmaids. My mom has requested that he not be invited. And I kind of don’t want to see his face there either, to be quite honest.
But not inviting him to my wedding will be a HUGE slap in the face. (Will it be as huge a slap as his e-mail to my mom where he told her that “she never cared about her dead husband’s family anyway, so why should she start caring now”? I dunno. Jury’s still out.) But yes, it will be a very bold statement against him.
Not inviting him will also put my dear, dear cousins in a weird position, because, while they have sympathized with me over this whole situation, it is their father, and if they are invited and he is not, it may stir up trouble in their family dynamic.
I understand that it’s not my battle to fight, but in some ways, I feel as though by attacking my mother, my uncle is attacking me, and my father’s memory. And in that sense I feel as though I should also stand strong with my mom.
I don’t want to cause more trouble than it’s worth by not inviting him, but I also really don’t ever want to see him again. At least until he apologizes to my family for the horrible things he’s said to my mom since my dad died.
So do I extend the olive branch to him, one last time, at risk of making my mom uncomfortable? Or do I continue on with the whole FUCK YOU status quo that’s been working out just fine for us, but might stir up trouble with my extended family? It sounds like a lose-lose situation to me.
You’ve seen “The Godfather,” right? The opening scene? The entire saga is predicated on the notion that no man can refuse any request on the day of his daughter’s wedding. Sure, it’s a drama that’s a bit heavy on the tomato sauce, but I bring it up for good reason.
Where is your dad in all of this? Certainly you’re not forgetting him. After all, he’s the first thing on your mind. Still, you’re leaving him out. You say he’s not why you’re writing, but I’m sorry, he really is.
The day of your wedding will be a big, crazy, wonderful, stressful day filled with family, friends, and a uniquely heightened state of consciousness. I promise, on that day, you won’t be dealing with your dad’s memory. You’ll be dealing with your dad’s presence.
It will be palpable, both beautiful and painful, one of the most bittersweet experiences of your life. Both your mother and your uncle will also be experiencing it. In fact, the three of you will share an unspoken bond through him on that day.
Your dad’s memory may be a source of animosity, but your dad’s presence will keep the animosity at bay. That’s why you may want to consider extending the olive branch this one last time. It will be different at your wedding. Trust me, this is some Godfather-level shizz. I guarantee your dad will keep your uncle in line. He’s not gonna let anybody mess with his little girl’s big day, least of all his feuding brother and wife.
Here’s the thing, though: Depending on your family’s dynamic, it may fall upon you to invoke your father’s will if your uncle forgets his place. Just remember, all you have to do is speak for your dad, and the weight of your words will instantly remind your uncle to shape up. It’s not a job for your mother. It’s not even a job for you, really. You’d just be doing it on behalf of your dad.
Your uncle has a daughter, after all. He understands what this day means to you, and he understands what this day would have meant to your father. I guarantee he’ll be on his best behavior, and you never know, if he brings an open heart, the presence of your dad that day might be enough to start things healing.
Apologies have certainly been born out of less.
(Source: thedaily.com)
Credit: The Daily (www.thedaily.com)
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