Coming Together

It has been a bit of a rough fall for my children. There is no real beginning to the story; it just is. For several years they have been distant from one another. As a rule, we all came together for holidays but the rest of the year felt a bit like a void. As the mom, it was very difficult to witness. I love them both deeply; more than words could ever say. I understood each side of the story and ached for them both. As much as I love being a mom of adult children, at some point you can't mother anymore. You can't make your kids to talk to each other or apologize and say they're sorry. They're grown-ups with spouses who protect their great loves with the fervor that runs deeper than even a mother's love. Maria and Bill's baby announcement on Thanksgiving was thrilling and I loved being a part of it. But back in the recesses of my heart was a giant hole because it was the first Thanksgiving we had not all been together as a family. Things had come to a head and there appeared to be no turning back. It is always good for me to remember that despite the strength of a massive oak tree, given a powerful enough wind, it can still bend and break. The late days of November passed and a wind began to blow. Each of them put forth the effort and they came together. I don't know what was said by either of them and I don't need to know. The greatest gift that they could ever give has landed in my lap. They have both summarized it in the same way "I think it went well." My only response has been to finally breathe out all the worry that had accumulated around my heart and breathe in the possibility of being a family again.

I am simply thrilled that they sat together in a room and let down their respective walls allowing the deep wounds to be seen by one another. I just know too many people that have fought with siblings and died without reconciling. They lived their lives out to the end and most of them couldn't remember what the fight was all about. How sad. I didn't want that for my kids. And I didn't want to negotiate the mind fields of celebrating holidays and birthdays and births and deaths around a feud. A giant weight has been lifted from me. If I think about it very long I cry. I cry for what could have been lost; the chance for Dave to be once again loved unconditionally by his family. The chance for Maria and Bill to introduce their baby to her uncle Dave, who I know will fall madly in love with the little meatball the minute he sees her. The chance for us all to be a family again.

Christmas has come early. I need nothing more than this; but to see my children at the same table, eating and drinking together, smiling, laughing, and yes, even arguing - all the things that a brother and sister do to bind each to the other. I know that in my own life, my brother and sister have kept me grounded with the constant reminder of who I am and where I came from. We laugh about old memories and new, our parents, our kids and the trials that life can bring our way. I want that for my children; a love of their shared history as well as the joy of spending their futures together, side by side laughing and crying, knowing that life is better when we are together.