Missed Adventure

Sometimes, and you know when it happens, the Universe hands you your backside and you decide, with all the dignity you can muster, you must make a choice.

This happened, again, in our family the other day. Our oldest, diagnosed Autistic, graduated high school with honors – and we were set to celebrate. BIG! A vacation, a little time carved out for each other, traveling to a strange and wonderful place together. A time to explore the possibilities that the future has to hold. San Francisco! A haven for the artist within our oldest, and the dynamic venues available to our youngest – who’s thirst for knowledge will never be quenched.

Plans were drawn up, tickets bought and at the last moment, mayhem. Our dog sitter didn’t show up. It was at the last minute we realized how vulnerable the two little white dogs we love so fiercely had meant everything to us. The slippery slope of quick change for our oldest can make or break any adventure – and no amount of planning could so quickly derail all our efforts to take a break as a family and adverted the disaster that loomed Sunday morning.

She just didn’t show up. An agenda aside of our own, we never realized how a vindictive wife of my husbands friend could so easily change our fates. How her callous disregard for our sons victory dance to San Fran, after a long school career and the regaled graduation of our eldest. We trusted this person, who had known our family for 10 years, and had cut and styled or sons hair from the time he couldn’t cope with the sound of clippers in our home, the very person who just didn’t show up.

We proverbially woke up, shifted admirably, and I dropped off the three most important men in my life at the airport. At the break of dawn, there we were, plans blown up – and surprisingly the subsequent damage to our sons dream vacation was minimizing as the minutes ticked by.

What an alien feeling coming home, alone, to the dogs who were snubbed by the woman they saw only two nights ago, nuzzled and loved on her as they do us. A quick woe is me post on Facebook netted several phone calls from real friends willing to come over and salvage our plans.

No, we had already made the on the spot decision to send my husband solo with the boys. A male bonding adventure, complete with municipal traveling, arriving at the wrong hotel, with low blood sugared sons competing for security with the man they know as their father. He was just as alone as I, in a strange place – pulling up his big boy pants, he is now on point, determined to show his sons the time of their lives……..

My other mother, Cynthia, called me to talk it out. “The Universe is telling me something here.” , I say. “Yes, and everything happens for a reason.” She replied. We laughed out loud at how my husband went to the wrong hotel after I told him every day for 2 months that it was the Hyatt ON the Pier. (Who knew there were TWO Hyatt’s in San Francisco!) Really, they will be fine, and now – after two phone calls on day two, they are having a great time, without me – and that is the best news, ever!

I was disappointed for a while. But you know, navigating the lives of the members of my family so throughly and for so long nets me a little me time to call my own, too. It is worth what we are out for my plane fare and cost of a hotel bed for this, this forced bonding time for the boys.

Chasing the dogs back to bed from the front room window, where they keep watch for the rest of the family, kept me up most of the night. But alas, I had a long lunch with my mother in law today, one of only a hand full of times we’ve had 3 minutes to string together for each other. We went shopping, nixing the mall for the salvage stores and having a delightful bite at the local bistro. It was priceless spending time with her…..and I promised to do a better job in the future.

An era has come to an end. My two boys – they are not the babies I borne or the little boys I worried over for so long and so intently, especially the eldest with Autism. No, they are men of the world now. And their father? He is making the mutual memories with them to call his own with the two young men he helped craft over the years. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful!

So right now? I’m going to eat Fritos and string cheese for dinner, chase the dogs off “Daddy’s Chair” and wait for the next phone call from my family. Spending time in boxer shorts, cruising the internet and Facebook has been delectable. Can’t wait to hear about the mis-adventures and experiences they have shared together – alone in a big city – without me, the navigator of the family.

A long, long time ago, my very close friend Jenny told me every year for Mother’s Day she spent 24 delectable hours alone at a local hotel with the explicit orders to her family that she was not to be disturbed. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES was she to be disturbed, and that meant blood too. It was her time to recharge – the mother of three children that includes twins all under the age of two years old, living under the roof of a single wide mobile home trailer. All the while raising them all at the same time. Her husband honored her wishes and she found her center, once a year – and now, I get it. Alone time is divine, in small doses actually therapeutic. OMG Jenn, I get it.

Thank you Universe – this time to myself is welcome. The hand dealt to my husband, alone with his boys also, again very welcome. Now please, move along to the next family, hand them theirs so they learn the lesson of solitude and sharing the responsibilities of life – and please, leave a little more time for us, the ones who have learned and honor your wishes. Because ultimately, all we have are our memories, and in the end? Its the time well spent, together, and apart – that is most remembered by all.

~ Wendy Frye

“Fathering makes a man, whatever his standing in the eyes of the world, feel strong and good and important, just as he makes his child feel loved and valued.” ~ Frank Pittman

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