Posted April 25th, 2004 by Michelle

Yesterday morning, my sister-in-law Melissa flew into La Guardia at 11 AM from Iowa City, Iowa. She was here for just under 24 hours, and she helped me peel eggs for the devileds I was making for Jordi’s bridal shower. Mom, Melissa and I drove to Long Island with a precarious plate of eggs and not nearly as much time as I’d like to have with two such amazing women.

Melissa was the first courageous soul to brave the Williams family. She was our babysitter, our friend, the infuser of nuttiness and humor into our lives, whose crazy curls float through most of my childhood memories. Even when I was only a few years old, I sensed that she was the lifeline that would keep my brother Kent- my eldest, most bizarre, funniest, strangest brother, largely because he was a teenager when I was a toddler- tied to the rest of us. My family was always on the verge of violently splintering- another thing I sensed very early- and Kent seemed ready to break free. He was the cool kid, the one with the guitars in his room and a book full of his poetry and drawings, and he didn’t seem to fit within the parameters of everyday life. He was, he is, extraordinary, and I thought it would drive him away. Melissa, to my young eyes, was his touchstone.

I have memories of their wedding. I believe it was 1980- I’m sure I’ll be corrected if I’m wrong- which made me 8 years old. I loved my ruffley outfit because it was roomy and I could still run and play even though it was a dress (yeech!). I have a vague recollection of the outside of the… church? Sean and I swinging on some bars that lined the walkway. And then I remember the reception, walking around on my own, getting probably my first taste of what it’s like to be near but not with the people you love.

That was 24 years ago. That’s insane. And what I am realizing is that now I’m an adult, on my own, with a full life and the world before me, I can actually change things, make choices, do something about the things that make me sad. What is making me sad right now is that I haven’t spent more time with my sister Melissa. It makes me sad that my sister Tessa wasn’t at the shower with my sisters Melissa and Jordana. It makes me sad that my stepmom Carole wasn’t at the shower with my sisters and my mom. For so long, for so incredibly long, it was just my mom and me. No complaints there- my mom sent me on the path of freedom, openheartedness, goodness, and movement. But now there are all of these other wonderful women that we can call family and I guess that is the call I would like to shout out. We can do this, we can be a family. We can all be together when Jordana has a shower, we can get together to fly Melissa out for a long weekend, we can all meet in Chicago or Puerto Rico or in one of our homes.

If my parents have reached a point, if I have reached a point where I go to see Ian’s and Tessa’s plays and I SIT BETWEEN MY MOM AND DAD and NO ONE EVEN MENTIONS IT then we can do anything. I’m so proud of my parents, so proud of them talking to one another, so proud to see Carole and my mom chatting about, I don’t know, wedding dresses and bone density. I’m so proud of my father for saving my mom and me seats at the show, and so fucking lucky that we’ve reached a point where I didn’t have to decide with whom to sit.

But, really, it’s the bare bones of a beginning and that is it. My dress for the wedding feels tight to me, so I’m freaking out about getting it altered, because I know if I feel fat at the wedding than that is will be my one and only focus. This wedding is not about me, so I have to get the dress altered or I will lost in my own misery. It’s not an option. I have to get it altered. I suppose that is what I’m asking. Can we not all alter ourselves, just a little, and god knows me included, so we feel able to be at each other’s service? Tessa, this past Christmas, knew how important it was for her to be represented at Christmas rather than be simply inundated by the Williams clan. That is a huge beginning. That was altering the situation so she could welcome us into her home (for the third? fourth? year in a row). I’m so proud and honored that Melissa flew here for less than a day, who altered her situation so she could be here for the shower even though she just finished nursing a dying friend. That is commitment, that is family, and it is inspiring. So incredibly inspiring.

What it comes down to, though, is that all of this alteration, all of this giving and caring and loving that I struggle to master is what comes naturally to Sean’s bride-to-be. I see Sean wanting to be a great man because of Jordana, and in my opinion, greatly succeeding, but what they may not know is that Jordana makes me want to be a better sister, daughter, and friend. Jordana’s reflex is to reach out, to lift up, to love. We are so lucky, so blessed, that this wonderful woman is joining our tribe. Hers is the love that inspired Shakespeare, the one that does not alter when it alteration finds. And I hope we all live lives that deserve her.