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Some in the family had hoped for this from the beginning. I guess they had their reasons but I, the eternal pessimist, the skeptic, the one with the dim view of all humanity, had actually hoped that it would work. You know, for the children.
I was the one who'd prevailed on our second daughter, the perfectly-coiffed, elegantly-tailored one, the one with the hair-trigger sense of propriety, even without the wedding jitters, to rearrange the tables at the very last minute so my son's new girlfriend could attend. And I followed up by starting our Saturday night dinners, hoping to encourage the assimilation of his newly-blended family into our own.
To be honest, I saw the same reasons that everyone else did for it not to work. But I also understood that my son had made a decision, as precipitous as it seemed, to turn his own life and that of his son in this direction, presenting it, as he so often does, as a fait accompli, for others to comment on, react to, get on board with--or not.
Over time, though, I think most of us arrived at the same place. The doubters, at least the ones who lived here in town, came to see the necessity, if not the potential of it. And the foolishly hopeful--that would be me--came to fully appreciate the pitfalls, those noted by the wiser ones early-on, as well as some new ones that came later.
I guess when the couple themselves got there, they didn't like what they saw. Because on Labor Day, while other folks were busy closing camps and hauling boats back home for the season, my son was busy hauling himself, our grandson, and their collective worldly goods back home as well. And the day after, with fall most certainly in the air, we all awoke to this new season in our collective lives.
Some of us, I suppose, will breathe a sigh of relief, when we hear of it. Others of us will just breathe. And then we'll look at the kids. And wait to see what else these changes bring...
I was the one who'd prevailed on our second daughter, the perfectly-coiffed, elegantly-tailored one, the one with the hair-trigger sense of propriety, even without the wedding jitters, to rearrange the tables at the very last minute so my son's new girlfriend could attend. And I followed up by starting our Saturday night dinners, hoping to encourage the assimilation of his newly-blended family into our own.
To be honest, I saw the same reasons that everyone else did for it not to work. But I also understood that my son had made a decision, as precipitous as it seemed, to turn his own life and that of his son in this direction, presenting it, as he so often does, as a fait accompli, for others to comment on, react to, get on board with--or not.
Over time, though, I think most of us arrived at the same place. The doubters, at least the ones who lived here in town, came to see the necessity, if not the potential of it. And the foolishly hopeful--that would be me--came to fully appreciate the pitfalls, those noted by the wiser ones early-on, as well as some new ones that came later.
I guess when the couple themselves got there, they didn't like what they saw. Because on Labor Day, while other folks were busy closing camps and hauling boats back home for the season, my son was busy hauling himself, our grandson, and their collective worldly goods back home as well. And the day after, with fall most certainly in the air, we all awoke to this new season in our collective lives.
Some of us, I suppose, will breathe a sigh of relief, when we hear of it. Others of us will just breathe. And then we'll look at the kids. And wait to see what else these changes bring...
