24 shopping days till Christmas

An early morning email exchange with a friend made me mindful again that “normal” keeps shifting in life. “Normal” in my own life has been the presence of a child as a doted on beloved one ever since I was twelve or thirteen and the Malone girls, first cousins, started coming to our house to stay for weeks at a time. I adored them, made myself their main caretaker during their visits, and grieved devastatingly when their parents came to get them and took them home to Pensacola. We always only had one Malone girl at a time, and one was named for me, which only worsened my doting. They of course grew up and away, and in all my years of whining and begging I couldn’t convince mama either to have another little girl or to adopt one.

The boys were sprinkled in my life too, and had their own share of being doted on. But they shake you off and move on, as expected and there ain’t nothin’ you can’t do about it. You can cling to the girls. They don't like it, but you can worry and cling. With the boys you have to remember how it was with yourself wanting your freedom and independence, and set them free.

My last child, granddaughter whom I legally adopted as daughter when she was very little, arrived safely at her college at 7:26 last evening. She drove away from here at 2:00 and the “I’m here” text that signals my resurfacing to sanity usually posts almost exactly five hours later to the minute. So, the extra nearly half hour, which I kept reminding myself unconvincingly was Thanksgiving Sunday evening is the busiest traffic time of the year, was time in the Twilight Zone. Anyone who has lived inside a nightmare will understand. Those who dote on their children and know the anguish of watching them grow up and away also will understand. It has happened four times to me now -- five counting grandson Nicholas and my desolating grief when he and his mother moved from Florida to Michigan when he was nine years old -- and unlike other experiences of life, it doesn’t get easier. It isn't any easier at nearly eighty than it was the first time, when I was forty. If I started over, I’d want life to be like that family on TV that has 19 kids so I never ran out of children around me. 

No one who knows me will be surprised.

At least Hurricane Season is over today. When to put up the Christmas tree?

Tom Papa Dad