Saturday, October 17, 2009

Heavy Heart

I have an issue. Thanksgiving is upon us and the day after Thanksgiving we have a family ritual. We had this ritual before we were a family even. It began 11 years ago.

Eric and I always joined our friends for an evening downtown --sipping martinis fireside at the Mayflower Hotel and then greeting the holiday season with a quintessential welcome-- seeing Santa for the first time in nearly a year, watching the holiday tree come to life with all its twinkling lights, singing Christmas carols in the chilly air, and finally basking in the glow of the fireworks overhead.

It was always a hopeful occassion spiced with grand adventures--treks to Irish pubs, sleepovers that grew over the years from 4 adults to a group of 10 with babies, toddlers, and dogs in tow, chats over bowls of winter stew and yummy wine, loads of laughter and timeless memories.

Over the years we've added babies, other families, and cocoa and cookies to the mix.

And then it happened. Two years ago now on that very eve we had a falling out. I will not rehash the details but apologies were made and the forgiveness never came.

Still over the years I have sent several emails, notes, cards and thoughts professing my sorrow, apologies, and genuine sadness. Finally I was told that they would be willing to see me and the girls but not Eric. That would be all well and good if Eric felt the same but since Eric at that time did still want to see them (and apologized several times himself) then clearly you know where my loyalty lies. Reject him, reject me.

Last year on the day after Thanksgiving Eric and Olivia went back to the same hotel. So did they. I was at Children's with Audrey due to a terrible cold and the breathing issues she gets along with it.

They exchanged hellos and apparently it was a pleasant hour or so. There were plenty of others to distract them as well. The kids played beautifully together. The same kids that saw eachother for the first time moments after entering the world. The same kids that celebrated all their first outings together, holidays, sleepovers, even first little kisses! Our Godchildren.

I sent an email after that night and a picture a friend had snapped of all of them. I commented on how happy I was to see them "reunited" for the evening and how sorry I was to miss it. No response.

I am now just more than a month away from facing the day. Frankly, I don't care to do so.

Recently my tech guy switched my company on to a new server and literally every email I have sent since 2005 is in my sent folder. There were a lot of sent items to that family over the years. From friendly reminders of birthday parties, confirmation of our annual Santa Train trip, well wishes for their parent's 50th anniversary, blessings for their father's health, and the apologies and the "I miss you" notes.

"Let's just pick a new spot," I told Eric yesterday. "I still want to do the tree lighting and the fireworks and if we run in to them so be it."

"It's our family tradition to go there and the girls love it. YOU love it, Kate." he pleaded.

I don't want to go. My heart is still broken.

Going Gray

“Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm” ~unknown

I am a true black and white person. All or Nothing. In or Out. Game as a badger or Not Showing Up.

Passionately LOVE something or great disinterest.
Content or freaking out.
Crank up the music or total silence.
Completely get something or pretty clueless.

Dishes done before bed.
Beds made before I leave the house.
Pressing phone call to return? I'll make it THEN (despite the cranky kids in the backseat or busy highway I am cruising down).

I guess I am more Black than White. Regardless, you get the picture.

Right now is a prime example. Dear Olivia is crooning to Wii Karaoke. She has a sweet voice and is on key for sure but I am trying to blog and I wish she would PIPE DOWN. The voices in my head are going nuts. This is a total silence time, sister! I could hide away in the office, climb in bed with my laptop, or even go sit in the car to escape the concert taking place in the family room a few rooms away. Or I could deal. It is taking A LOT of effort trust me. But I am doing it.

I have wanted to blog F-O-R-E-V-E-R (oh, the guilt!) but life keeps cropping up and my to do list is growing moment by moment. Last night I was gung ho (sp? I am not going to google it either! baby steps...) to make it happen. I have a handful of blog topics in the hopper. But then Audrey's darling toothless grin was in my face and Eric was playing all sorts of great music on iTunes and priority called--it was time for the Kitchen Dance Party. I turned off the computer and shimmied, bobbed, and pranced about the house. Sure, it was a Turn Up The Music moment but because I had not completed my "blog task" it was a lot of effort to join in. But I did it.

By the way-- I am FAILING miserably right now. Audrey has just returned from walking her babies in the rain and she and Olivia are now arguing over Wii Karaoke. I just yelled from the dining room, "I CAN NOT TAKE THIS RIGHT NOW GIRLS!" And I mean yelled. Damn...

Here are some other ways I am trying to enter the gray zone...I just made breakfast, got Audrey suited up for the walk in the rain, helped her load her babes in the carriage, bid her farewell and even snapped a pic. Meantime, the breakfast dishes are piled up, the to do list is overwhelming me but I sat down to blog even with other needs. That is gray for me. Did I mention I still have heat rollers in my hair --from an hour and a half ago?

OK, so in an effort to maintain some semblance of order I am going to dash. Stay tuned on my progress as this is nearly four decades of personality I am trying to "change". Plus Audrey has called for me from atop the stairs wondering if I can swaddle her baby, put on her necklace, and help her find her favorite markers.

The karaoke game ceased after my little explosion and the only sound I can hear quite loudly now is Fribble snoring. Which to be honest is a bit annoying as I ideally want TOTAL silence.

Did I mention I want a third dog? Seriously.