“Ms. Patton’s List of (More) Appropriate Words
Peripheral (adj., relating to or situated on the edge, the periphery of something)
In just one year I went from the center of my family to the edges. The other mother was put in charge of the food and gifts. The sister took the coats. The cousin fetched drinks. There I sat, small and hunched, perched on an ottoman, an ordinary guest expected to sip lemonade and nibble sandwiches and chat pleasantly with random, vaguely familiar people.
“Elinor, your hair is so short!”
“Elinor, this is just what you need!”
The first comment came from an old aunt of my daughter-in-law. The last from a younger aunt, referencing my recent divorce from the new baby’s grandfather.
I didn’t want to be peripheral. I wanted to be integral. I wanted to stand at the front of the room and say, “No, no, my barely out of college son impregnating someone and getting married soon after is not what I need!”
What I needed was for my husband to not have said, “I feel you lack imagination.”
What I needed was for my husband to not have chosen his (apparently very imaginative) trainer, Lucy, over me.
I needed to go home, even though my home would soon no longer be mine. The closing was that Wednesday and all of my pretty things were already packed up, given away or in storage.
What I needed was to leave this shower. Right. Now.
“You’re leaving before the gender reveal cake?” some woman with a wide split between her teeth practically screamed at me.
“Yes, I am,” I said. And then I did.
