It's all been a blur
July 27, 2007

It has been a blur of a month.

Matt’s graduation was the portal to an unprecedented block of family time.  We merged with Pat and his intended in Maui for our first family vacation in quite a few years, and Patrick utilized the hiatus period in Hollywood to migrate to Chicago for a crash course in wedding preparations.  I am fertilized by the togetherness, despite the fact that it is accompanied by chaos in the house, and a loss of my car.  Pat upped the dizziness by swimming with his phone, hence being incommunicado.  As an added touch of nuttiness, he bobbled his cousin’s brand new Verizon phone into the pool as well, a rather expensive quirk of fate.  I should be relishing the solitude.  Not so.

The pace that the kids kept was dizzying.  They chipped away at their wedding jobs with fervor.  Honestly, I cannot believe what they shoe horned into three weeks.

Here is an incomplete list:
Sampled menus, and selected entrees and accoutrements at their venue
Interviewed and hired videographer
Rented equipment for the reception
Met with the minister, planned the service
Listened to the band at a concert in Grant Park (fabulous)
Planned flowers and welcome tables
Scheduled hair and make-up for wedding party
Bride picked up her dress
Had engagement photos taken (so beautiful)

They flittered from friend to friend, celebrated the 4th of July with us, and saw Steve in concert and at a live broadcast.  Pat saw the failing White Sox play, and they visited the condo in Michigan (with Matt as a chaperone) for a vacation from their vacation.  Ms. Pat-to-be also journeyed to North Carolina to visit her grandmother for 3 days, partied with both sides of the wedding party, and most exciting of all- was the guest of honor at a big, beautiful shower given by my sister, Judy. 

All of my siblings, and a giant cluster of cousins, traveled from Detroit to celebrate.  It was an impressive influx, and I loved every moment of family time.  Rachel was the recipient of beautiful things, and she was gracious and adorable.  In an heretofore unprecedented act of social grace, Steve hosted a day at Arlington, where the races and the hospitality of the folks at Arlington soothed the men who made the 5 hour trek just to deliver gifts and wives.  We were a bed and breakfast- and I am the worst hostess/cook imaginable- and yet we had the best time.  My sister’s first grandchild wobbled around with 11-month-old legs, and it reminded me of the fearlessness and fatigue associated with the toddler years.  Smelling baby skin was definitely a highlight. 

Then, after 3 weeks of action, they left.  The house is quiet; I am lonely.  There is a distinct reduction in mess and laundry, and my car is at the ready.  I hate it.

Steve is the Papa Bear.  He loves the peace.  When the brothers came out Sunday to say their goodbyes, Steve was distressed that there would be another dash of disorder and noise.  Sure enough, wet towels, abandoned beer cans, clothing and junk littered the house that just bid farewell to my extended family.  The boys had a plan:  pizza, and a family viewing of John From Cincinnati.  Then Pat would be whisked away, so there would be no sad goodbyes.  (I am so famous for my sobbing scenes that I am discouraged from airport appearances.  My level of despair is aligned with a Mom watching a soldier go, not the parting of a young writer’s assistant on his way to a new job).  It almost worked.

Pat and I were both brave for each other, but he misses the Midwest.  Sometimes I think the screenwriting dream is as much an effort to win his dad’s respect rather than a career ambition.  Of course, that may be wishful thinking on my part.  All I know is that Sunday night, we both agreed that we like being a family, that pizza and TV is an honored Dahl tradition, and that splintering is sad.  My composure was not what it should have been, and that doubled Pat’s separation difficulty.  Fortunately, the knowledge that his fiancé would meet him at the airport to travel back to LA softened the edge.

I remained in a semi-fetal position for 36 hours, and Steve respected my cosmic “do-not-disturb” sign.  Pat unlocked an old cell and re-activated communications.  He had a good day on the new job.  He loves Rachel, and is glad to be in closer proximity to her than he was at home.  All is well. 

Old Billy Shakespeare knew what he was talking about when he said parting was sweet sorrow.  It is a grace to share the coiled rope of family love.  But I have to expect a little burn when someone slips outside the knot.

 I’m healing, and I’m grateful.