Synergy

I've recently lost my mother.

TO LOVE!!!!

I know that there are many adult children of widowed parents who would not share my enthusiasm but I am so excited!

Back in November my mom had begun to date a man named David. David and my dad were high school classmates and my parents and David and his wife used to hang out together at the high school reunions. David was widowed a few years ago and out of the blue he called my mom this past fall.

He joined us for Thanksgiving and although my mom enjoyed his company she kept telling me that there was "no chemistry."

Chemistry...Really?!

I pointed out that at her age, chemistry was probably less important than companionship and if she enjoyed spending time with him then she should.

The first change in her came just after the five year anniversary of losing my dad. It was almost as if someone had flipped a switch and she had regained some of her internal spark.

It was like she'd decided somewhere along the way that five years was enough and it was time to move on.

The second change came on new year's eve. She and David met us in Kennett Square for the annual Mushroom raising on New Year's Eve. (They do a "count up" and raise the lighted mushroom at 8pm so that people with little kids can see it and then take their kids home and put them to bed.) Then they do a countdown and drop the mushroom at midnight like they do with the ball in Times Square.

After that night mom was completely transformed!

Evidently David is a one hell of a kisser who floored my mother and totally knocked her socks off!

She is no longer on the verge of tears all the time or wondering why she is still here when her husband is gone.

She has become a giddy teenager in love.

And in love she is.

He is a wonderful man who doesn't yell (big difference if you knew my dad), doesn't swear (bigger difference if you knew my dad), and is always calm and even keeled.

He is not even (gasp) a sailor!

The cool thing is that he is so different that there is nothing to compare.

She is Chuck's widow and he is Sarah's widower.

Their worlds were, for all intents and purposes, completely different.

The two different worlds collided.

That collision produced a relationships with a synergy that few get to experience.

They are in that early stage of being in love where everything is fun and life is new and shiny again.

Mom and David are now looking at the future together with hope and love in their hearts.

My mom has regained her feistiness and the light, that I thought had been extinguished forever, has returned to her eyes.

David did that and, for that alone, I will forever be grateful to him.

Not Inconsolable

December 3, 2015 was the fifth anniversary of my father's death. Leading up to that date my sister, mother, aunts and I were a weird bundle of nerves. Anniversaries are odd that way.

Lots of anticipation.

I'd imagined that I'd wake up this ball of tears who was inconsolable for hours.

That did not happen.

Per my usual morning habits...I got out of bed, grabbed a cup of coffee and hit Facebook.

First order of business was to pay tribute to the man who gave me the two greatest gifts: My life and my husband.

I did not cry.

I was not inconsolable.

In fact, it felt like my last birthday...just another day.

The lead up was so much worse.

Lesson...

All the worry in the world did nothing but make me miserable.

I am not usually a worrier

In fact, I tend to go the other way. I've been around the block enough to know that worrying seldom produces anything positive and is less than productive.

I tend to take this attitude with my kids when we are home.

They pretty much have free reign of the house and, unless they are doing something blatantly wrong, I can usually repair the damage or clean up the spill.

Spills are something that happens with three-year-olds.

They are curious and learning new things daily so they get into things they shouldn't.

If you have kids you know that silence is typically a VERY bad sign.

Well, the other day I was up in the office designing posts for Facebook for my job and suddenly realized that I didn't hear anything.

I stopped typing for a moment and just listened.

Laughter! Aaaaaaah. The glorious sound of laughter!

Wait!!! What were they laughing about?

I headed downstairs to find them standing on chairs in front of the kitchen sink, water on, sprayer in hand, puddles on the floor, the two of them soaked but giggling hysterically.

It was impossible not to laugh.

Goat Closets and Crap Stores

I often forget that the two, very verbal, little people that inhabit my house do not have the same vocabulary that I do.

This was never more obvious than the day I cleaned up their play tent and put it away in the hall closet.

They came down from naps and asked where the tent was. I explained that I had cleaned and put it away in the coat closet.

Both headed down the hallway only to stop in their tracks as Daniel declared, "I don't see a goat."

I made a hard "c"sound and said, "Not goat closet, coat closet." Which prompted David to ask, "Why is it called a coat closet?"

Evidently a 'goat closet' makes more sense.

I have been trying to get the boys to do more hands on things and have discovered that they love things with small stick on parts or just plain stickers that go in coordinated places in books. Finding crafts appropriate for three-year-olds can be difficult but AC Moore seems to have a pretty good selection.

It's gotten better recently but for about two months getting David to wear anything other than pajamas was a nightmare. He'd end up in tears and I would be beyond frustrated that he didn't want to get changed. I thought that everyone would think I was some sort of failure as a mom for allowing my child to leave the house in anything less than real clothing.

I'm over that now but at the time it seemed important.

But I digress...

If you have kids you know what a pain it can be to keep anything that resembles a schedule. I wanted to get out of the house, do the shopping, have lunch, get the crafts and get home.

David wanted to kick, cry and scream because I wanted him in clean clothes.

I had already told them that we were going to the craft store that day but he was being so difficult that I began to bargain and, yes even bribe, telling him that we were going to have lunch and he'd get to pick out his cookie.

He perked right up and said, "And then we're getting crap."

Wait, what?!

I panicked and replied, "We're not getting crap." He said, "Yes we are. You said we are going to the crap store today."

The image of AC Moore flashed into my brain and I quickly corrected his pronunciation.

Evidently between coats and crafts I lack a bit in my ability to enunciate.