Moving On
I have many friends who were born, brought up and continue to live in the same house. Parts of me envy those friends. I lived a totally different life. Since my father was a military man, I grew up an army-brat. For anyone who doesn't know , an army brat grows up living (usually one year) on or attached to a military base in homes usually called PMQ's (permanent married quarters). When I say one year - every year my father would be posted to a new base, so...off we go.
As you can imagine, when you are used to going to a different school every year, making new friends, you grow up quite differently. I find that I can remember special events in my life, and very special friends, but a lot of details are missing from my memory. I liked and enjoyed school, and picked up quickly, so moving each year didn't pose too great a problem for me.
Twenty-five years ago I met a special lady - Bev. Bev was one of those other people. One of the ones that grew up in the same house, went to the same schools, and kept the same friends throughout her school years. Needless to say, our backgrounds were about as different as any two people could have. In any other circumstances, all of my senses would have told me not to get too involved.
All of my natural defenses were useless however under these circumstances. Bev had a wit and an infectious personality that completely caught me off-guard. Indeed, after two previous marriages I had recently decided to spend some time with my three sons and forego getting involved with anyone romantically. When I met Bev, I was just becoming comfortable with being alone for the first time in my life. So much for resolutions.
A single mother with two young sons, Ida had been my friend for quite awhile. "Wayne, why don't you come over for lunch on Thursday?" "Sure, I'd be glad to.", I said. Ida and I were always getting together to keep each other company. She is an excellent communicator with a raucous sense of humour, and spending time with her was easy and relaxing. I had no Idea that she was planning to have company when I went over to her place on Thursday.
"Bev, this is Wayne, Wayne this is Bev." I offered my hand and said' "Bev, it's really good to meet you. I had no idea Ida was going to have company today."
"I surprised Ida with a visit since we haven't been able to connect for awhile now. I hope my being here doesn't spoil your visit?"
"Not at all", I replied, "Ida and I are always meeting new friends together, so today isn't really all that different. How long have you two known each other?" As I asked Bev that question I watched the light dancing in her beautiful brown eyes, and as the crinkles appeared at the corner of her eyes and lips with her warm smile I remember thinking I may be in trouble here.
The rest of lunch just flew by, and soon Bev was saying good-bye and heading out the door, leaving Ida and I alone. "You're going to have to tell me about Bev, Ida - because I want to know a lot more."
"So you're thinking of two-timing me?", Ida quipped. "No", I protested, " She is a very interesting person, and it seems like there is much more to her story than she was telling today. I seemed to sense an under-tone of sadness beneath all of the humour that was going on today. I am wondering if I am just reading more into the situation than actually exists."
Ida, not characteristically, got serious for a moment. " Bev is married and has two children just becoming teenagers, but she is very concerned about the state of her family. She has been married over fifteen years now and she has put a lot of effort into making her marriage work."
Ida continued,"My heart just breaks when I see Bev like this. She is trying so hard to decide what would be the best direction for her to choose relating to her family situation. She wants to make it work, but her husband is........ hard to live with in any circumstances. I feel she is on the verge of giving up."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I guess that was the sadness I was sensing while we were talking. I would like to get to know her better, but it might be better not to pursue it at this time. I know how hard it is to end a long-term relationship."
I could see that Ida was affected by Bev's predicament as she became unusually quiet, a condition not normally associated with Ida. I tried to distract her with some lighter subjects of conversation, but the afternoon was a loss. It was time for me to say so-long to Ida and head back home to make supper for my boys.
There I was with my three sons: Scott - seventeen, Glenn - fifteen, and Todd - eleven. As much as I love these guys, I didn't feel that it was appropriate to discuss my feelings with them. Even though they were quite grown-up and mature, I wasn't sure that they would be able to understand the feelings that were beginning to stir. It had been quite a while since they had been a part of a complete family, and after my second marriage, I wasn't too sure how they would react, especially since we had discussions about my being alone with them for the near future.
I was originally under the mistaken concept that my boys and my second wife, Doris had a good relationship. It was only later that I discovered that when I wasn't home, things hadn't gone too well between them. I guess, in retrospect, that's what one gets for working most of the time. Today, I have some regrets that I spent so much time in an effort to build an audio-visual production firm that my family time really suffered.
I resolved, after much introspection, to keep my thoughts and feelings to myself for the time-being. After all, nothing may come of it going forward. Plenty of time to talk about it later. There were times that I would look at my sons and feel that I could talk to them about anything. Scott, for example, was pushing six- foot-two and it was hard to look at him and not imagine that he was an adult. I had to keep reminding myself that at this stage of his life, he was still concerned about teen-age problems.
Compounding the problem, Scott kept his feelings pretty close to his chest. In seventeen years I had never seen him angry. As a matter of fact, it seemed so unusual to me that any child could keep from being angry with his parents from time to time, that when he was twelve, we took him to a psychologist to make sure everything was all right. Scott just grinned. The psychologist confirmed that there were no major problems. Go figure!