Halcyon Days

We're in the midst of sorting and packing. We've been making decisions about items in storage spaces that have been untouched for years. The boys came home for Christmas and had to look at, and disposition items, they thought would be safely stored at their parent’s house forever. We are at the cliff, the point where the next step forward is a huge change that neither Dan nor I were truly prepared to take for a few more years. 

And yet, I think about why I started this blog, and it was to ready my mind for that big move to a warmer climate and a new beginning. Dan has been ready to turn that snow blower into a fountain for a long time now.

In December, my job was eliminated, just business and nothing personal. Except that, of course it is personal. It’s about me, and about what I contributed, and to what extent that contribution was valued. My professional currency became valueless and it was at that point they let me go. The company is heading in a new direction that didn’t include me and it is just business.

How arrogant of me to think I’m special, because of course I'm not, this has happened to so many people before me, my husband included. And now we are here, at the end of almost 20 years in the same beautiful house and a very special neighborhood, with neighbors that are not likely to be duplicated. And we sort and we pack. Even the dog is confused. It looks like something big is happening, yet no one leaves or takes him to the kennel, but everything is different.

I’m not sure where this story ends. I’m not done working yet. Neither is Dan. I’m very optimistic about two different employment opportunities, in two different cities, in southern states. They want to talk to me in person and I’ll be an enthusiastic participant in those conversations.

And yet, what a wonderful house this has been, on an incredible street, in an incredible community. Such great friends so close by. My heart aches to think about leaving.

The real-estate agent is optimistic. Great old house, well cared for, premium value, sellers market. The home stager was sweet as she complimented us on all of our personal touches and let us know exactly what to remove. No distractions allowed to confuse potential buyers. “They need to see the house and not what you’ve done to make it your own.” So we sort and pack and neuter the house, our home.

Tears roll down my cheeks. It is the end of these halcyon days.

Santa's Helpers

The last few days have been heady, the boys were home. This means a house filled with noise and activity. Their friends stop by and give us great hugs. Every flat surface seems to be covered with kid debris and every bath towel in the house is in play. The dogface boys are beside themselves with joy to cuddle up on a couch with an old friend. A bonus this year was the addition of Hunter’s lovely wife Megan, and Carl’s delightful girlfriend Ashley. We haven’t had a family Christmas in far too long and when the house is full it truly feels like home.

Of course, we’ve redefined “home” since the boys moved out and on to their adult lives. They walk in the door expecting nothing to have changed and anything different is amplified for them. Mostly they just comment on the changes. Sometimes they struggle mightily to return things to normalcy; they made a big effort to do that during this last visit.

We’ve had the same refrigerator for years, a standard freezer on top model. It’s in a corner of the kitchen and for years the door handle was on the right hand side, opening into the kitchen. The spacing of the corner did not allow for the door to swing wide open to the left, so one of the crisper drawers wouldn’t open all the way. At some point Dan determined that the access situation would be improved by moving the door handles from the right side to the left side. Voila, the door now swung all the way open, both crisper drawers opened fully and Dan was happy; me, not so much. I found the left hand access awkward as this required maneuvering the corner when putting groceries away or getting out ingredients for food prep. When the boys would visit they commented on the ergonomically incorrect placement of the handle. Dad’s “fix” confused (and annoyed) them.

At some point during the night of December 22, Christmas elves snuck into our house and made some ergonomic adjustments to the refrigerator. A cryptic note was left on the chalkboard about corrections that were needed. Apparently these were “cookie” elves, because my kitchen was returned to “code” and I was given permission to start baking. Dan saw the note first but could not make sense of it. When I got up he pointed to it and asked me if I knew what it meant. Having not baked a Christmas cookies in about, oh, 25 years I too was confused. Megan, up early, said she noticed something was different. I looked around again, saw the fridge handles back on the right and exclaimed “they fixed it!”

This is the magic and madness that happens when the whole family is together. The entire house is filled with a different kind of energy. We renegotiate our relationships in new and fun ways as we come to grips with these wonderful adults in our lives. Yes, something like the refrigerator can be “fixed”, but we can never return the boys to childhood. I appreciate the confident and competent men they have become, so confident that they can push their dad’s buttons and just laugh about it. I love the wonderful women they love so much. And when I think about relocating I know that no matter where we live, the love will follow.

Happy New Year everyone!

The Musician and the Thespian

Hunter & Carl, 1987

The holidays are coming and this was holiday party weekend. An open house tonight found us enjoying the energy of small children. Of course, those of us with children fully grown started to reminisce about magic moments when our kids were growing up. We have two adult sons who are without a doubt the most wonderful guys in the world. Certainly in my world and Dan’s world.

Hunter & Carl, 1996

Resistance to moving south has always been contingent on their futures. I made it clear to Dan early and often that if the boys stayed in the Milwaukee area I needed to be there too. However, they’ve charted a different course, away from home and drop-in visits.

Carl, the musician, lives in Philadelphia, with plans to make a musical future for himself in New York. Music is what he loves. More importantly, it makes him happy. He first picked up an instrument in the fifth grade. Carl was set on being a tuba player but due to size, forced to start on the baritone. This was not acceptable and as soon as he hit middle school he convinced the band director to let him switch. As a freshman in high school he discovered the bass guitar as the passport to the jazz ensemble. He taught himself to play, using an instrument borrowed from his Uncle Brian.

Carl & Hunter, Peavey museum, 2000.

Sophomore year was a crucial point for Carl in asserting control over his destiny. He walked around the house for hours on end with the bass in his hands. More than a few arguments were focused on our requests for him to put the bass down and “DO YOUR HOMEWORK”. Exasperated by less than stellar grades we took him to a psychologist for an evaluation. The therapist showed us a picture Carl drew of a mobile home threatened by a large, nasty looking tornado. Carl had explained that it was “the juxtaposition of outside factors on the safety of the home and family”. Take a chill pill mom and dad, nothing wrong with this kid.

Hunter (center) & Carl (right) in Music Man, 2002

Hunter, the thespian, always knew he wanted to be an actor. In the third grade he donned a hula skirt, bikini top and lipstick in a risky performance for Odyssey of the Mind. He got his first video camera in grade school and made a stop-motion short story for a middle school project. Hunter was cast in two First Stage productions and all but one of the high school plays. He wrote and directed “Zombies, the Musical” for the Student Play Festival at Wauwatosa East. He brought tears to my eyes as a fireman in "Working", in a production staged by his theater class.

While in college we’d hear about a project Hunter was involved with, and if we were lucky enough, he’d let us know when and where to see a performance. He’s written and directed his own full length movie, a project that found me dying a slow and painful death covered in blood colored liquid laundry detergent. “Now mom, could you just gasp and struggle until your final breath? Oh, and then hold your breath and DON'T MOVE until I say cut.” (My best and only movie role and it hit the cutting room floor.) He landed a lead role in the independent movie Driver's Ed Mutiny. And just like Carl, Hunter is truly happy with this life choice.

As a parent the best thing in the world is to see your children thriving, happy and pursuing their dreams. That’s what my kids are doing. They no longer live in their home town, they are pursuing dreams and their adult futures in other places, with plans to move even farther away. My resistance to moving diminished when it became clear that one or both of them would be a plane ticket away, no matter where we live.

Hunter & Carl 2010