DAYS OF CHANGE

I heard it first from my DIL; the mommy of the rug rats. I was doing dishes when she called. What she was saying forced me to stop and sit down...and listen. I was still mulling the conversation over in my head, had only just hung up the phone, when my daughter rang. Having always been my DIL’s first choice as confidant, she would already be aware of the situation.

“Did you talk to M”?” my daughter asked. “She told me she was going to call you right after telling me.”

“Yes,” I answered. “And I don’t know what to think or say. I’ve been in that house more often lately than I ever was, and I never saw this coming.”

I had noticed that my easy-going son has been uptight lately. I put it down to his being tired from the long shifts, the hours of renovations he was doing to their home, and the never flagging energy of three little lads. Neither of the parents had much time alone together, let alone to his/her self. The latter is what led my DIL to ask for a separation. She feels that she is losing herself in all this, and is no longer sure that my son is who she wants. Apparently the signs have been there for awhile. My son, true to form, never let on what was happening. He is not one to discuss private affairs.

I picked the boys up from daycare as usual that afternoon. When their daddy arrived at 8 PM, they were bathed and the two youngest were in bed. We needed to talk, and we did; the event, the feelings, the decisions – we went over each, fluttering from one subject to the next. Or rather, he spoke, and I did my best to listen without judging and/or offering advice. Nothing was certain yet, he told me; they would take a break from each other and go from there. There was no animosity involved – she felt confused and needed space. With time, she would maybe change her mind.

And that’s the way it presently stands. My son has been staying here, and it’s a pleasure to have him around. His weekend was spent camping on a beach with the boys while mommy spent her time elsewhere. Last night, when he arrived from work, we briefly touched on making this house childproof, on measures needed for adapting the doggies (especially Smooch!) to the kids, then shelved the details for later. I could tell he is reluctant to consider that it may come to shared custody. He’s still hoping a short time apart will fix things up.

It was late when we went to bed, and I didn’t sleep a wink. It is sad, but worse things could happen. I know we can handle whatever the results may be; the bonds and love in our family, my son included, are strong. I’m also a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.

I went out to the kitchen for a cup of warm milk. Smooch opened one eye, and went right back to his doggie dreams. Grump got up, stretched, then meandered over to where I was sitting and put his head on my knee. Grump is very keen to whatever emotion his mistress may be experiencing.

“Well, Grump-puppy, prepare yourself,” I told him as I fondled his ears. “We did our stint alone, then along came Fred....then along came Smooch...and now a possible invasion by three rug rats!” Grump looked up at me, paying close attention.

“Now that’s gonna be Rock ‘N Roll!” Knowing it was okay, Grump wagged his tail, and I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec