Soon after my sister revealed she was pregnant for the second time, she informed me that I’d be a godmother for the first. I was panicked about this for months; I know what it means to be a godmother, I think.
Being a Godmother for the first time is scary but not as scary as the pageantry that has to happen in order to call oneself a godmother -would I remember the prayers? Would I fumble during my spotlight moment? What would I wear? I hope I don’t have to say anything. How long would the whole thing be? Not to mention, a few days before the christening, I decided that I was taking a date; not just any date but the man I’ve been dating and talking to my family about for the past seven months.
The days leading up to the christening, I went back and forth on the idea. I continuously asked my boyfriend if he wanted to be there and every time he nervously looked at me and said “yes” I prayed he didn’t recognize that I was more nervous than I imagined he was. I kept thinking of all the inappropriate stories that could possibly come up during this meeting; the forsaken baby pictures that always find there way out in public during family gatherings. Who would reveal what?
As I prepped at my sisters’ house for the christening, sadness took over; I didn’t want to do this. Yes, I wanted to christen my nephew (he’s the cutest thing alive) but did I really want my family to meet my man? Did I want to ruin this honeymoon already?
The night before, I told him, there was no need to attend the service. I arranged to have him meet them, at the party after; after they all had drinks, after they’d taken off the dresses/suits and shoes that weren’t so comfortable, after they’d eaten, I had to make sure that I controlled as much of this meeting as I possibly could.
As I entered the church, a certain calm took over (places of worship always have this effect on me). I listened to what I could hear from the priest and as the prayers flowed from my lips, my angst about the meeting that was going to happen in a few hours, or the consequences of it, faded away.
The ceremony wrapped without incident and as I stepped out the pew, I noticed out of the corner of my eye what I thought to be a ghost. My ex was at the church, standing at the end of MY pew, acting as though he didn’t notice me. Just like that, my serenity and peace evaporated.