Monday, December 22, 2008

Family Tradition



"Why do you drink?
(Hank) why do you roll smoke?
Why must you live out the songs that you wrote?
Over and over
Everybody made my prediction
So if i get stoned
I'm just carryin'
On an old family tradition"

I spent last week tearing around Florida in a red Dodge Avenger rent-a-car- filling my tank for under $20 and mostly obeying Florida's generous 70 mile per hour speed limit on the highway as I hopped between Bal Harbour, Naples and - last stop Orlando. The driving has gotten easier and a real pleasure since I figured out I could concentrate on the road and sing along with the local country music stations. Oh what fun it is to ride when you can easily find another country station when the first one fades out in 100 miles.

About halfway up I-75 for a mini reunion and some Saag Paneer in Ocala I heard Hank Williams Jr- singing about his Family Tradition- his dad died in the back of a limo after a B-12 shot mixed with morphine- amazing that Sr. was able to make Hey Good Looking and Jambalaya an integral part of the fabric of this country's musical tapestry and still die at 29. So the family tradition for the Williams would be a true cautionary tale- or as Jr. sang... perhaps not.

So home I came to the frozen north- rewarded for gloating to friends in the north that the weather in Florida was a nippy 78 all week with a 28 degree slap in the face and an ice storm that left planes stranded at the gates and tugs slipping on he runways trying to move them so we could park our jet and deplane...which took a bit of time. But no matter, I was HOME.

And it was two days til Hanukah and five til Christmas. This year, having gotten settled a bit into job, relationship and some semblance of ease in the left lane I found a whole new area of STUFF that needed getting used to. I now know you do not show up at a watch industry function without wearing a watch- I LITERALLY got slapped on the wrist for that one, I have learned that "pick any car" at the rental lot doesn't always get me a convertible or that if I pack a bathing suit for a trip it does not automatically mean I will get to go swimming. There was a whole new batch of things to adjust to- that the stuffing a Thanksgiving was pork- or pork... not my cornbread and mushroom mixture. Adjusting to the fact that I wouldn't have a turkey carcass in my fridge til the week between Christmas and New Year's when I realize I am actually NEVER going to make soup out of it.

Small potatoes here (white and sweet potatoes- another adjustment) but the harder stuff- like the little guy saying to the waitress who innocently mistook me for his mom calmly explaining- "That's my dad but that's NOT my mom, that's my dad's FRIEND" But fair is fair- I did the same thing to my step-mom to be at an amusement park snack bar- I was quite a bit more theatrical at 6- I stood up on a table and yelled "That woman is NOT my mother". Ah Karma, you evil, patient wench. Getting used to the rapier witted cousin who responded to my attempts at sweetness with even MORE sarcasm but in the face of several lightning-quick barbs aimed in his direction shouted "I LIKE this girl!" and let me know "the last one was 'too vanilla'." I guess I have always seen myself as more of a mocha.

All around me I see new sets of family traditions as I watch ex-husbands deal with the new guy and ex-wives dealing with the old guy. I see the kids- whether ten years old or almost thirty trying to deal with twice as many parents as the original allotted amount. Being civilized says we should all be...NICE to each other but I can understand when a son isn't so enamoured of his mom's new husband- she married him- why does HE have to be nice to him- or see him walking around in his underwear? Bad enough to think that your parent is having sex- worse to imagine they are enjoying it, with not your mom or dad and nightmarish to think you might HEAR it. And the family photo walls- yeesh- as a newcomer I GET that when a photo has ...dad and the kids- it has their mom in it too- but how do I quell the feeling I just want to take a cuticle scissors and cut around her face? I am not PROUD of these feelings and begrudge no one their history- I'd miss the kids if they weren't here and am grateful to their mom for all the heavy-lifting that it took to get them out of diapers and into high school but sadly, here I am merely human and it is so HARD to stick to the belief that I am the only woman he ever loved when the proof is in the pre-pubescents, adolescents and adults...

I got to thinking about my own family- not so much there- a sister I rarely see, my adoptive parents decades gone and my biological parents.. my "birth mom". I admit to giving her her very little thought- my sister and I were adopted at 3 days old- I know so little about her and never really dwelled on even the little I knew, she was a womb I rented to make the nine month drive into the world. Sounds cold but my parenting history had its own challenges and after forty some years I seem to have made peace with much of it and finally last weekend thought of her. I wondered if she ever wondered. I can't imagine a woman who wouldn't give a thought to having twins and however she did it, walking away. I wanted to tell her, if she did ever wonder- it all came out ok. My sister and I are whole, loving people. Nice to each other and caring to the people in our lives. I wanted to tell her there were gifts she gave us without knowing. That we are both independent women who developed good family values without the benefit of ever having a family outside of each other for very long. That we both learned that family are the people who stick by you without a common bloodline. That our past and present is something we made all on our own and there is a certain pride in knowing and owning all of it. I wanted to say thanks to her, wherever she is, for giving me, and Cindee, a shot at this life. I guess the family tradition I like best is that we, that I, am forever grateful for every person who stopped in along my path in this life and in loving me, became my family. So much more opportunity to love and be close to some very special traditions... even canned cranberry sauce.