Sometimes the ups are only a reminder of how low the downs have been. On a morning like this past Saturday, when I get a visit from The Oldest and he's charming, smiling, and connecting with others in the room, the new normal becomes less tolerable for days after.
The Little One was visiting for a few days, and The Oldest had said he'd come for brunch so we could all be together. I took advantage of the lure of bacon to invite My Man and his children to join us. The Oldest hadn't met the kids yet, and it would be the first time all 6 of us were together. I was anxious - I want us all to form some new form of family. I want everyone to like each other. And I wanted to impress and delight with the menu. That's a lot of pressure for a Saturday morning.
The Oldest showed up on time and sober. He helped cook (have I mentioned he's an amazingly talented cook?). As he always does when he's in that mood, he made me laugh and put me at ease. Once the other guests had arrived, the conversation was stilted and awkward. The Oldest helped to smooth that out. Then he cleared the table & asked what else he could help with before he left. He was the ideal guest. The ideal son.
I hate that I can't just be grateful for that morning. That on Sunday when he blew me off again it was like the morning before had never happened. That I allow myself, in those beautiful moments, to think that everything is okay and there's no need to worry.
Maybe some day that will be true. I cling to that maybe.
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