Our nuclear family, as we all know, is not what Ozzie and Harriet portrayed in the 50s….not one bit. I own and run a special event venue…..a lovely one in fact. I get teary with each bride I send down the aisle….hopeful that what they are putting out to the Universe, hopes, dreams what-have-you….might blister….bad word, unfold with beauty and ease.
More often than not, the unfolding of any relationship HAS its blisters. Yep, part of the learning curve. Our options though are numerous (as women) compared to the days when Mr. Cleaver, “Beaver’s Dad’, ran the roost.
Last evening I spent my time with a cackle (the words bouncing in my head this evening surprise me)….I meant that in the most affectionate terms, me one of the ‘cacklers’….a cackle of women related through love, chance encounters, marriage, divorce.Pictured below is my former husband’s other former wife, (we call one another ‘wife in laws’) and his mother, in the pretty bow….and his former wife’s (not me, the other one), mother and my lovely step daughter who will always be my step daughter. A finer group of women I’ve chance to meet.
We have one man in common who is ‘Dad’, ‘son’, ‘son-in-law’, was ‘husband’ now ‘former husband’ to us separately. He brought us all together. I’m grateful for these big hearts who welcomed me into their fold. I welcome their friendship as my relationship with the father of her children, the son to his mom, the Daddy to one precious child and son-in-law, shifted places and roles in my world. These ladies, their love toward me….I’ve found is not conditional. Wow! Nooooo, really, WOW!
These are women big of heart, loving despite their own trials and to me very, very special indeed.
Hats off to the ladies who lunch, dinner, drink and stay together! You are always and forever welcome, whereever I am.