Well, let’s say two tales: one family tale of last week, and one family tale to come next week.
Last week was my ex-husband’s family reunion here and we had a great time. It has been nine years since we all got together, and since then there have been many children born (two sets of twins) and many young adults grown to be responsible parents.
Since I’m the ex, I feel especially fortunate to be included in all the festivities. I still feel like family, and they’ve opened their arms to include Al, too, which is great. He feels completely comfortable and at home with them all, mostly because he is secure and comfortable in his own skin. He knows who he is and he likes himself.
Next week he and I drive to Utah to hold a celebration of life for my mom and to scatter her ashes. In attendance will be my siblings, one niece and husband, one nephew and family, my mom’s sister and her four kids (my cousins) with their spouses, along with four of my mother’s best friends.
I feel some anxiety about this event. Perhaps that’s to be expected. Strangely enough, I am currently writing a paper for school that examines, in depth, the exact issues that I’m feeling as the date of this event nears. I hope that I finish this paper before we go (I seem to be procrastinating even this very moment), and that I will have new insights to myself so that this is a more enjoyable experience for all.
Regardless, the contrast between the two families could not be more marked.
Or so it is in my head at this moment. We’ll see what happens in Utah.