Home for the Holidays

Or, rather, what to do when you’re not!

For those who know me well, it’s not a secret that the hardest American holiday for me to miss while living overseas is Thanksgiving.  In fact, it’s harder than all the other ones combined.  And as testament to its still non-commercial value, it hasn’t yet hopped over The Pond.

Which is to say there could be a bit of a reprieve if I could pick a restaurant nearby and have some facsimile of the Thanksgiving feast.  However, while I have seen hundreds of free-range chickens while out-n-about here in the Netherlands, I have never seen one turkey.  I don’t think the Dutch grow them.  Besides, if our microwave-sized oven is typical of most, no turkey would fit in it whole.

Dear Astrid has offered each year for us to drive to Amsterdam an hour away to eat the traditional meal at Hard Rock Café.  Bless her.  But it’s not the same, with the rest of the country working and my own family absent.

So, after resigning myself now for the third year in a row, I resort to the “second blessing”…the memories of years past with good family, good food, good fun and good…FOOTBALL.

Though I paid my dues and did my fair share, I was not one who ever gravitated to the kitchen over the holidays.  In later years my mantra was “I’ll do the dishes if you cook!”  You’d quicker see me in front of the TV with the men-folk, watching, if I was lucky, the grand finales of the college football season.

Now, skip back to when we were in Atlanta this past September.  That’s when grandson Nicholas (my dancing partner) roped Astrid into getting the house rigged up for football action at the beginning of the season. 

But here’s the thing….

We make up one heck of a football family!  When 3 of the 4 colleges/universities represented are BIG ones, you’re really talking football business.  There’s moi, a MICHIGAN grad (U of M, Go Blue).  Amy, my firstborn, is a grad of Flagler College in St. Augustine, FL, not what you’d call a football school (said with a straight face).  But she married a man who more than makes up for that as a SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA (USC) grad.  And son Mark graduated from GEORGIA.  Three biggies and all from different conferences, so we can all be happy when each other wins.

Did I mention OREGON?  Nope.  That’s because it’s still a figment of Nicholas’ imagination right now.  It’s HIS favorite football school because…he likes the colors (or so he told Astrid).

Now that you know the important details, you understand why it was hard to be away from the family right now.  Did I mention good family, good food, good fun and good…FOOTBALL?

I always flip a switch, of course.  The money I would spend on a feast I give to charity.  And when I stopped to really think about it, I said to Astrid, “In spite of missing home for the holidays, look at how much I have here with you!”  For one, we drove an hour away to Antwerp, Belgium, on Black Friday and spent an overnight there to see the city.  How many in my family would have given anything to do that!

And besides, while last year Michigan finally beat Ohio State after a 7-year losing streak, sadly they lost 2 days ago in what must have been a nail-biter, 26-21.

Astrid says, “Sometimes you lose and sometimes you gain.” 

And always you have the memories…the second blessings.  I truly am thankful!

The Fruits of Labor

Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life. 
--Confucius

Happy Labor Day to all my American friends.

This is my first time to celebrate this holiday since 2009.
The first time to participate in a BBQ since 2009.
The first time to watch the Braves play baseball (on TV) since 2009.

And all this with my 2 kids, SIL and grandson in Atlanta!
Let’s just say I’m one happy camper.

(And to keep you in suspenders,
next time I’ll tell you how Astrid and I did indeed dance our feet off at The Farm Wedding!)

Home Sweet Home

[One of my favorite houses near where I live in The Netherlands.]

On the heels of my last post, A Stitch in Time, I'm dying to give you a follow-up...you who went before me and prepared the way for my trip to the family cottage in Michigan, alone without Astrid.  THANK YOU.

There and back again, with a smile on my face.  Why, you ask?  Because something happened to me.  I was more ME with my family than I can ever recall.  I was comfortable in my own skin.  I was not shame-based (as so often happens to us in the gay community).  And because I'm in the best place and time of my life, I was 'at home' with me, myself and I.

That translated into my reaching out to each of my 5 siblings present, as well as to several of their kids, the Cousins.  I was intentional about it:  "Tell me how you're doing and what's happening in your life!"  And because most people like to talk about themselves, they did.  One on one, in the lake, on the grassy shore, in the cottage, on the deck or the screened-in porch, over 3 days of the holiday weekend, I caught up 30-45 minutes at a time.  Filling in all the cracks.  Catching up on the stories.  THEIR stories.

Interestingly, no one in return asked the same of me.  A couple mentioned it was too bad Astrid couldn't be there.  But it was okay.  For some reason, this time I didn't need them to catch up on me.  I needed to catch up on them and let them know I cared.  Quality, intentional, uninterrupted, focused time.

A stitch in time with my family.  I was the one doing the mending and it felt good and right.  Next time, Astrid will be with me (the plan is for next May during cottage workday) and THEN it will be my time.  Our time.  THEN it will be their turn to catch up on me/us.

I didn't expect it would happen like this.  That I would be selfless.  That I would NOT be worried about what they were thinking of me.  Here I am, living on the other side of the world with a Dutch woman they have never met (most of them).  I didn't give a hoot.  I only cared about them.

As I drove my turn in the dark of night back to Atlanta, I mulled over the gracious comments you had sent beforehand, wishing me god-speed.  I marveled over the effectual mindfulness we have for one another in our hour of need.  Thank you.

You know how we say "Home is where the heart is."  In the same breath we might also add "I left my heart in San Francisco."  Even though I missed Astrid terribly and have no intention to ever make this trip again without her, I did not leave my heart in The Netherlands when I left her...nor in Michigan when I left my family.  I realized, perhaps for the first time, that my heart, which is here inside me, is my home.  As long as I am true to my heart, I am 'at home.'

There's no other Home Sweet Home as good as that.  My heart, my home.  But still, as daughter Amy says, coming home is always the best part of going away!  There's no place like home.  There's no place like home. 

On Meeting the Parents

...or When Your Children Have Two Mommies.

Today, as we speak, Astrid and I are in Atlanta with my kids for a week-plus, celebrating birthdays, carving pumpkins, taking my grandson to the fair, and enjoying autumn in the North Georgia mountains.

Astrid is now the 3rd live-in 'parent' they've met, not counting their father.  Actually, the 4th parent, if you count G.  When Bill and I divorced in 1990, I thought I would be with G the rest of my life.  Seriously.  But her own divorce decree forbade her kids to ever see me if she wanted to retain joint custody.  That meant we could never live together.  Two years later she left me for another woman who was not part of the decree.

Within a month I rebounded and started a 5-year relationship with J.  As they say, hindsight is better than foresight, but the short version is we were from 2 entirely different zipcodes!  I truly believe everybody who knew me, including my kids, was glad when I left her because they didn't see us as a good fit.  However, it was still very hard on my fragile children who were finally getting used to the break-up of their original family while learning to accept their mom in a gay relationship.

When I left J for D (are you confused yet?) and started what was to become a 12-year partnership, I wanted to believe my kids would never have to go through another break-up.  Notice that I said my kids.   How very telling!  Everyone loved D and truly believed we were a match made in heaven.  Because of her I had a dream life of exotic travel all over the world...and enough financial security for 3 lifetimes.  But in the words of my favorite U2 song, I still hadn't found want I was looking for.  We, too, were from 2 different zipcodes.

How do you explain any of this to your kids?  And do you stay in your 'bad marriage' to keep them from bleeding yet again?  A friend years ago had said, "When you do what is right for yourself, it will be right for everyone else concerned."  So it was with fear and trembling that I left D and a year later moved to The Netherlands to become legally married to Astrid, the love of my life.

I have known Astrid for over 3 years now but this is the first time my kids have met her...because they weren't ready.  Can I guarantee to them I will never go through another break-up?  No.  Can I protect them?  No.  I want them to see how she is different from the others.  I want them to experience our love and happiness.  But it takes Time and has to find its own course.  It's part of the quiet pain in being their mother, still learning how to be a parent.

Why am I giving you Way Too Much Information?!  There are gay people all around us whether we know it or not, many living with a lot of pain.  My personal theory is our maturation process is much longer and more complicated than that of  'normal' straight people...because of the proverbial Closet and because we haven't learned to accept ourselves yet.  How then can you?  Or our kids?

Not to make this a band wagon (before midterm elections?), but maybe you can be part of the process that breaks down these barriers?  Maybe you can vote for Astrid to one day be free to move with me to Atlanta as my legal wife so that my kids can get to know her better?  Maybe?!