Proposing To The Parents

 “I’d like to marry your daughter.”  Those words slam like a gut punch, even when one is braced for impact, even after training and preparation, even knowing in advance--for years-- that this could happen.  When those words come – no amount of training can soften the blow.  It comes with the shock of a one-two punch.

Children do that, grow up, move on, and as a parent, one can only hope that they are prepared for the challenges of life, prepared to sustain a strong and successful relationship with someone else.  A parent hopes that a child has figured out friendship vs. love, but still we wonder. 

So, after reeling in shock, the critical question comes to the mind, “Why.”   

Now it is the fiancée’s turn to look flummoxed.  “Why?”  The question hung in the air and I clarified, “Why do you want to marry her?” 

The pain of my gut punch was still fresh and I wanted--no I needed--a salve, a balm of some sort, to soften the blow, to soothe the pain.  I wanted to hear something comforting like, “because I can’t function a day without her, ”or “When she is in the room I want to be next to her seeing what she’s seeing, feeling what she’s feeling, doing whatever she’s doing.” I imagined the quintessential, “My love is like a disease, pervading my every physical cell, overtaking my circulatory system, making my heart pump, my blood flow, my lungs heave, my breath shallow.” For was it not Plato that said, “At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.”  I never have, but Brian?  Hey, the man is an English major, a poet right?  This is what he does.

The guy’s been to college so I would have approved of a philosophical answer like Aristotle, “Love is composed of a single soul, inhabiting two bodies.”  Or something more in line with his Asian back story, perhaps from the Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu, “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

All of these responses would have appeased my passionate nature, but instead I received the equivalent of  “because she and I work well together.”  “We feel strongly about the same things, that marriage is more than a contract, but that two people must have compatible goals, and an equal determination to work at marriage to make it succeed.”

“Really?”

I pressed him still, yet eased up, trying to give him an opening--an indication of what I was aiming for.  I said,  “I need to hear that you love her passionately, that you can’t live without her.” 

“Well...” in typical Brian fashion he continued,  “I’m sure I could live, but it would be really hard.”

I backed him into the corner with more jabbing, “But, she is the only one for you, your soul mate?” 

“Well...” 

Again?  Really!

He continues, “I don’t necessarily believe that such a concept is rational.”  

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have heard the two of them discuss the philosophical nature of deep abiding friendships and eternal love and I don’t need an update.  

I press in now and I’m pounding relentlessly, “Then you could marry anyone and that would work fine,” and to his credit, much in his favor, he blocked the jabs and he did not cave.  

Again he was insistent, “I’m sure it would be possible to marry someone else and live life just fine, but I don’t want to, I want to marry Dia.” 

The passionate frustration in me peaked!  He was so being Mr. Darcey, both the literary protagonist and the physical man that I live with.  How do we do that—search the world over and marry our fathers?  He was also script perfect with Pride and Prejudice.  How does he seek to pacify and rationalize love and yet insult with intended generosity?

I’m unconvinced that this deep abiding friendship to which he alludes is enough to sustain a long-term relationship that must become what I feel is imperative--an unfeigned, relentless love.

Unfortunately, at that point, he opens himself up for the one-two punch. I  counter, “You’ve missed your calling, You should have been an accountant.” 

To be fair, he had, not more than ten minutes before, phrased his remarks for the benefit of the father of his love who is the critical analyst of the family and whatever was said,  Brian had passed with flying colors.  The dear husband, Mr. Darcey (spelled correctly) was convinced.  He was All In, although he still could have waited until 2014 to hand his daughter off. 

But, I am not appeased for I am the one who remembers that little face from first grade coming to me and looking up, insisting that she was ready to get married.  I asked that little blond head beaming with the beatific smile the same question, “Why?”

 And what was her response?  “Because he likes my art and he thinks I’m smart,” –already, the grown-up answer.  Even as a little girl, she understood that friendship first creates a place where love can grow, flourish, deepen and become eternal.   

In the early years of Brian and Dia’s friendship (back when I really liked him), I recall her phoning me after a day of skiing, “Mom, we just clumped in the door, I made it as far as the bathroom before exhaustion cut me down. I am so tired.  Brian is in the kitchen after putting up the skiis, drying out the clothes and starting the fire; he is now fixing supper.  How can I not marry that?” 

And I agreed.   How could a girl not marry that?  That act demonstrated another one of the great and important traits of Mr. Darcey!  Skiing!  No, I mean thoughtful consideration of others.  

In addition, as I have met the Sabey family, it comforts me to see the example of the entire family in putting first the feelings and concern for other’s souls.  It is deeply ingrained in their psyche and that tradition, from Mark & Lisa, their parents,  Grandma and Grandpa, aunts and uncles, including the children,  that is a balm to my heart.

 “Who, if not him?”  That was Mr. Darcey’s counter to me while I was still reeling from the bout.  Indeed, as I sought more peace in my mommy mourning, I reflected on Brian and Dia’s relationship. Brian has time and time again, over the course of their courtship these past three? four? five years, demonstrated the deep friendship that first considers the comfort of the other.  When he sent her off on the mission that was her heartfelt dream since childhood with a “There is a family in Hong Kong who needs you,” and then fully supported her on that mission with his weekly pertinent tales of his own mission lore, or when he encourages her to follow her passion for English, these are proofs of that deep friendship. 

Brian has never--and I must state this emphatically, and not reluctantly-- Brian has never done anything that made me doubt his suitability as that guy, the one who likes Dia’s art and thinks that she is smart.  He gives one hundred percent  because in a great friendship, such sacrifice is reciprocal and from that effort grows deep and abiding love.

And that is when you recognize that you can’t live (the same) without them. 

Most importantly, Brian has worked hard to win me over and I must admit there was one maneuver  that got under the defenses and totally tipped the balance.

The guy does windows.  

That's My Reality--And sometimes it bites. And When It Does, I Write

11-23-2012

Birthdays and Boys

"Mom, here's your present. Read the card first."

"Oh, Aidan. Did you make it?" I ask.

"Nah, but it's funny," Aidan says.

So I pluck the card off the top of the present and I open it.

It's one of my cards... that I made.

I look at him sideways. 

Certainly he knows I made it?

"Read it, Mom!" he insists.

"I must say you look fabulous." I read it, 

and then I open it to the inside. 

"And on my birthday you must tell me I look fabulous."

He laughs and laughs, and so I laugh. 

At him.

Finally he breaks off, "Funny, Huh, Mom?"

Yeah Aidan. Funny. On so many levels.

And I get the feeling 

that he and I will split the lemonheads 

that I bought 

for him 

to give me 

as my present.

That's my Reality and Sometimes It Bites.  And When It Does, I Write. 

9/10/10

Bus Stop Bureaucracy

Parenting is a mix of science, information and baggage--the impedimenta your parents loaded you up with that you will shuck off your shoulders onto your children. And I usually enjoy doing it. “My father made me do that, so you are going to."

Our family had a rule, you either learned to ride a bike before kindergarten, or you walked the mile to school each day. I was a tremendously uncoordinated child, so there I was, my five-year-old legs, trudging to school each day and trudging home. For a while my first-grade sister would take pity on me and pump me on the fender of her back tire—until it broke.

It wasn’t a bad walk, and even my short little legs could do it in about a half hour. We lived in a pretty cold place, it got to about ten below during the winter and as child number two in a long parade of nine, I didn’t always have hand-me-down hats, boots and mittens, but we always had coats.

The worst part of the walk was when Dad would drive to work and he would pass right by us in his heated automobile and sometimes he would wave. I thought that showed an extreme lack of regard for the wellbeing of children, even cruelty and while it may have built character, the character it built is the one that I’m trying to avoid creating in my own children.

This year, I’m watching as the school bus drives along the very street my son walks in the dark. The bus could stop where it has all his previous school years, right by our house and there it would pick up three other children, but instead, this year it drives right on past them. It’s really too dark to see if the bus driver waves. These kids do have hats and mittens and maybe even the best coats money can buy, but these kids have something I didn’t. They are smarter than I ever was and they have a higher disdain for irrational behavior. They can think of no reason for this lack of consideration—none except that it’s “the rule.” Intermediate school children of age ten and eleven are deemed to be able to walk a third of a mile, so the rationale is that they should be made to do so.  After all, what irrational stories would they have to tell their children if they did not?   There are other children that are younger than my son and so they now have to be driven down to the bus stop each morning—for safety concerns.

Just FYI.  Walking doesn’t build positive character. What is engendered in that five blocks and ten minutes is a moldering cynicism. It’s just long enough to form a credible theory against irrational bureaucracy. It’s another inevitability that I wish my son didn’t have to learn— that rampant bureaucracy plus the lack of reason equals total stupidity.

What I have learned is something I already knew. All of my effort to effect change with the school has made a difference. The bus stop has been relocated .03 miles closer to us. That means not only will the children on this end still have to be driven, but now the three who come from the other direction, will also have to be driven.

I’m reminded that when it comes to bureaucracy, it’s always best to leave well enough alone.

That's My Reality and Sometimes It Bites.  When It Does, I Write.

11-1-10

The Bucket List

When you are pretending to write, you take time off to scan and respond as avoidance therapy.   Copy paste and then X the things you've done and remove the X from the ones you have not, and send it to your friends (including me).  ( X ) Shot a gun - yeah, pshaw. I'm from the country. Okay, once.  (X ) Slapped a Bull--no, but I've milked a really mean cow. ( ) Gone on a blind date--No, but I married a near-deaf mate? (X) Skipped school - so often that Mom said, "sign your own notes... mine will look like forgeries." (X ) Watched someone die-- Wouldn't have missed it.  (X) Been to Canada -- 22 hours in Calgary (X ) Been to Alaska -- Slept through it, pregnant and seething.  ( ) Been to Cuba -- Isn't that illegal for Americans?  ( ) Been to Europe -- Does Paris, Idaho count?  (X) Been to Las Vegas --And it can stay in Vegas. ( ) Been to Florida -- The gateway to CruiseAmerica? No.  (X) Been on a plane -- TSA has me on their watch list-safest way to fly.  (X) Served on a jury - Never seated - guy plead out.  (X) Been lost - constantly--with my keys.  ( X) Swam in the ocean -- Cough, cough, sputter, choke, drown.  (X) Cried yourself to sleep - P.U. what's new.   ( ) Played cops and robbers - waiting for grandkids.  ( ) Played cowboys and Indians -- ditto.  ( ) Recently colored with crayons. -- What is it about the word grandkids that's confusing?  (X) Sang Karaoke - Family night around the machine - happiness!  (X) Paid for a meal with coins only - Bought groceries, $16.54 - year one marriage.  (X) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? -- woke up today.  (X) Made prank phone calls - not since *69.  ( X) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose. -- Solid food doesn't count? ( X ) Caught a snowflake on your tongue--Caught my tongue on a flake.  ( X ) Danced in the rain - Cried in the rain. Same, same.  ( ) Written a letter to Santa Claus - Who?  That old phoney?  ( ) Been kissed under the mistletoe -- Gotta get on that-- note to self, find mistletoe immediately.  (X) Watched the sunrise with someone--After being up all night?  (X) Blown bubbles -- Out my nose.  (X ) Gone ice-skating -- Wrenched an ankle--how do they do that?  (X ) Camped out under the stars -- Too often. ( X ) Seen something so beautiful that it took your breath away? - Babies--new life---beautiful beyond words.  ( X ) Are you or have you been married? Every day in every way.  (X ) Have Children -- To check off the bucket list, why else birth them?  (X) Have a Pet - Had a plethora - not good at keeping them, but have had them.  (X) Been fishing -- Fondest memories in life have been in a boat.  (X ) Been boating -- Only as a means to fish.  (X ) Been water skiing/tubing -- Only to fish.  (X) Been hiking -- Not as recreation--only obligation. And to fish.  (X) Been camping in a trailer/RV/tent/car -- Been there, done that--to fish. (X) Flown in a small 4-seater airplane - Helicopter count? Got sick!  ( ) Flown in a glider -- Helicopter counts!!!  (X) Been flying in a hot air balloon -- Yes, but also there was that helicopter ride... (X ) Been Bungee-jumping, skydiving, Zip-lining or Para-Sailing -- ZIPPED and UNZIPPED --nothing like zipping with an open zip! (X) Gone to a drive-in movie -- Slept through Star Wars.  ( ) Done something that should have killed you-- YIKES--I've almost completed the bucket list... does that mean I'm on my last leg?  And again, still practicing avoidance.    1. Any nickname? nah 2. Favorite drink: nah 3. Body piercings: nah - not purposely anyway.  Rusty nails count?   4. Tattoos: nah  5. How much do you like your job: I'm making stuff up daily. 6. Where were you born? On earth, just to quell the constant rumors.   7. Favorite vacation spot? Hawaii --- mee tooo, who knew? 8 Been to Africa? No - so touristee.  9. Ever eaten just cookies for dinner? Yes and dessert first - not good. 10. Ever been on the T.V.? Nope, not in public anyway. My new one has such a thin screen that I don't think it could support my weight anyway. 11. Ever steal any traffic signs? Nope, but I have ignored one or two? 12. Ever been in a car accident? Yes, due to #11 11. Drive a 2-door or 4-door vehicle? 5 14. Favorite number? People have favorite numbers? How? Why? 15. Do you smoke? Nope, therefore I will live forever, a dried up crotchety old non-smoker. 16. Favorite holiday: Birthdays and un-birthdays. 17. Favorite dessert. Cream puffs because they suit my personality, flaky outside, squishy inside. 18. Where do you see yourself in 10 years? In a mirror. 19. Furthest place you will send this message? To myself, but the long way around the world. 20. Who will be first to read this? No one, the same people who read my blog. 3-11-10