It's the 4th of July. I have baked a (homegrown) zucchini torte and made my famous Weigh Better Potato Salad to take to a BBQ at my sons's house. Tomorrow. On the 5th. That's because my granddaughter and her family will be here tomorrow from North Carolina, so that's the day of our celebration. Not today. I'm sure our forefathers would understand and approve of this one-day delay.
A holiday such as Indepenedence Day is about celebration, tradition, history, yes. And it's about family -- first and foremost. The more the merrier, even though personalities don't always mesh, and some subjects must remain off limits because of differing views, heated opinions, moods and mood swings.
Despite some bumpy roads we've all been down together, I love seeing my kids, their spouses, their kids and their kids' kids all together -- even though there's always someone missing. It's impossible to get everyone together these days. There are other people to be visited, other places to go, and things like jobs and work schedules that make demands of their own. Sometimes we just do the best we can and settle for what we can get. And on the subject of family:
My husband and I have been watching a new series (on disc) called Burn Notice. The lead character is a CIA spy who has been "burned" -- meaning fired -- hung out to dry with no identity, no connections, no cash, no credit, no work history, etc. -- and he doesn't know why. Story lines are always full of intrigue as he uses his spy savvy to (a) try to find out who burned him and why and (b) extricate ordinary folks from not-so-everyday dangerous situations. What shines brightest in this series though is the array of characters.
The actor's portrayal of Michael Weston (think handsome, loveable smart-ass) reminds me of my grandson who now lives in Texas, a professional bull-and-bronc rider. The ex-spy's gorgeous gun crazy kick-ass ex-IRA guerrila fighter girlfriend/not girlfriend is the character I would most like to identify with, but alas. It's not to be. Because there's also the mother, definitely flawed and either directly or indirectly responsible for Michael's uhh... maybe warped... personality that so suits him for the dangerous line of work he has pursued. Father is absent, which is for the best, based on unpleasant memories that are discussed and sometimes defended, for better or worse. The younger brother shows up as the bad boy with a gambling habit and a grudge, and then there's a boozing older ex-SEAL buddy who's always ready to help make things better -- and worse. These are the regulars.
Thing is, the show is about family, and though it sometimes hits close to home in a sad way, it's also always good for a chuckle or ten. As I look forward to seeing my own gathering of characters tomorrow, especially my granddaughter and two great granddaughters, my hopes are high for a good time had by all. Including me. But a little voice is trying to help out by whispering, "Ah ah ah, not too high, remember. The higher those hopes rise, the harder they fall."
So I make a whimpy vow to try my damnedest to keep my mouth shut tomorrow -- just watch and listen and smile and... drink (not too much, just enough) -- because the role my offspring has assigned me is not the wise and kindly matriarch adored and revered by all. More like the mom in Burn Notice, I guess I have motherhood warts where freckles would be more appealing. I know my kids love me, so to speak, but I also know I'll most likely say or do something that will meet with criticism either to my face or behind my back. It's inevitable.
Which substantiates what I've always said about parenthood. You never get it right. I'm very proud of all my brood, they've filled my love tank with happy memories and made my life worth living. If it's possible to love your kids too much, however, I do. Too much? Not enough? You never get it right.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment