dys.func.tional?

"When you know better - you do better." The Great Maya Angelou

I have heard it said that every family is dysfunctional at some level. What some describe as dysfunctional I might be more likely to describe as unconventional. I am, like many, simply a branch on a broken family tree. When I made the difficult (yet simple) decision to divorce my ex-husband, I worried - what toll will this have on my children? How will they be viewed by others, coming from a "broken home?" How will they feel when they are making Father's Day gifts for their Grandfather or their Uncle, while everyone else makes them for Dad? When will I see the side effects? What will I do then?

In my case, my son was not even two and my daughter just about to turn four when I made that decision. I had heard it said that "children would rather come from a broken home than live in one." I took comfort in that. I had been miserable for so long. I stayed, because I thought it was the right thing to do because I made a commitment. Through a series of events, I got a "get out of jail free" card and it was impossible for me to remain. I had to do what was best for my children and so I left the home. We took an apartment with a short lease, while I got my head together and figured out what to do next. I was sad - not about the split but that I had made a poor choice of a "father" for my children. Now, as it was then, he is a deadbeat. He owes more than $30K in child support arrearage. The happy ending is that my husband is the only father that they have ever known (as I did not date or have men in my life for the 4 years following separating from my ex) and he has legally adopted them. Their circle is complete.

My parents were not supportive of my decision, which took us from Florida to Washington state. I certainly could have handled things better with them, have shared more, to lessen the element of surprise when I finally did make the decision. I wish I could have communicated with them, but I was still locked up in the stringent parent/child dynamic that I had lived with for all those years. I was intimidated, I was scared, and I didn't want to have to "sell them" on my decision or constantly defend it. I took the coward's way out by not addressing the issue head on, so they are certainly entitled to some of their anger. Nonetheless, they took full advantage. My father claimed I was chasing a feather with this marriage and I remember my mother telling me that it was "just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one (my husband is a carpenter)." I suppose in their own way, they saw it as only wanting the best for me/us and this is how it manifested itself. Maybe they would "do" better if they "knew" better, but their form of communication was long ago etched in them and there is no place for considering a new concept or a new way.

In retrospect, I firmly believe, that regardless of how I had managed the situation and the issues surrounding it, they would still have found cause for objection. They simply don't seem to think that I am capable of making good, sound decisions, because I have made some poor ones in the past. They have never once told me that I am a good mother, that I am doing a good job raising my children, with the oppressive burdens that single motherhood is paired with. They would tell me that my children and I were "too close," that they would be the kids clinging to my skirt on the first day of school, crying, begging me not to leave them. That they would somehow lack the ability to be independent. To the contrary, I was the clinger. Both of my children looked at me after 15 minutes of my loitering and said "Mama, you can go now, it's time for school to start." Years later they are still those strong, compassionate, independent little people who don't fear me going away for they know I will return. Trust and security was built through us being "too close," the three musketeers, and I could not be prouder of them or prouder of the bond we share.

It's been over two years since I remarried and I had hoped things would improve. That our weekly Sunday conversations would shift from "making me pay" to some form of acceptance. They haven't, not really. Their tone is more civil, but the separation, disapproval and skepticism is ever present. We have not seen them since December of 2007 and I don't know when we will see them again. We can't afford to bear the burden of $2000 in air fare to make the trip and we have invited them countless times, from the most sincere places in our hearts to come, but they have never come.

The door will remain open and I measure what I "need to do" in the relationship by asking myself daily ... "if, God forbid, something happened to them, would there be something I wish I had said." There can be no certainty with the answer, but for me the answer feels like no. My parents are not ogres, I have come to realize that they raised me as their parents raised them. I have plucked so many wonderful things, traditions, from my childhood and passed them onto my children and I am grateful for the hand they had in raising me. What I never had with them, though, is an emotional connection and it was perhaps the one thing I needed most of all. It has been the one thing that I know, with complete certainty that I have given to my own children.

I got a call from my daughter's teacher yesterday about an essay she wrote in school about her mom. Yes, she spoke of how I have always provided for them, taken care of them when they are sick, taught them the importance of good manners and respect, taken her to her lessons, school functions and play dates. However, the bulk of the essay was about the mom who sings to her every morning, races out to jump in puddles with her when it rains, does her own form of karaoke using a wooden spoon as a microphone, dances with her, her brother and the dog and someone who is always there for her - no matter what, even when she makes a "bad" (her words, not mine) choice. She finished by saying that "she loves me even when I am unlovable" (which of course is never).

Some might call our family life dys.func.tional because we don't have as much structure as some, but we care more about our children's feelings than the words in front of them. We always ditch laundry and household chores for the chance to go sledding, go to the lake for a beautiful drive, etc. We try to say yes way more than we say no and we tend to see most things not in black in white but in shades of gray.

I hope my parents reconnect with all of us, but you can't make someone look at their behavior just because you are willing and/or ready to look at your own. I remember when my son was learning to color, my father stressed to him how important it was to "stay inside the lines." I remember privately telling my father that some of us see the picture inside the lines, some see it outside the lines and that those are choices we have to make for ourselves.

We are a loving happy family that is living our lives both inside AND outside the lines. I am so grateful.

Is this all there is?

This has been a lifelong question for me and is also the title of an unfinished book I have been working on and hope to one day finish, and yes, publish.

I love my husband, more than I thought I could love another person and I am so glad that I took the leap of faith and look forward to many years together.

I have observed married couples for years, ones with what I considered to be good marriages, ones that I considered to be people who never should have been married and others that were just going through the motions. Even with my observations of the "good" marriages, I still find myself wondering, is this all there is? Is this the brass ring we all strive for? To be drunk in the intoxication of falling in love, then get married, have a family and settle into a life of routine and taking one another for granted? If we don't all know, we should know that marriages don't just explode or implode when they fail, they simply go flat, from inattention.

My husband is an adrenaline junkie - when people hear that, they smile. I have learned that I am a romance junkie - when people hear that, they think I need therapy!! Why should I have to give up wanting to feel like a princess, like the princess he treated me as pre-marriage? Why do we all say we will never take one another for granted only to do just that? I am just as guilty as anyone and the whole issue bugs me! I truly would rather have 15 minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special - to quote a phrase from a wonderful chick flick, Steel Magnolias.

It's one of those days, clearly. There is a pile of laundry in front of my washing machine that, if I stand upon it, elevates me from 5'4" to at least 5'7" and a half a dozen other things that I need to get done today. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to love and be loved and every day that life offers me, but that doesn't mean I want an "ordinary" life. I want an extraordinary life, and that just doesn't seem like too much to wish for.