"Love is but a song we sing..."

Back when I was still married to my first wife and my eldest daughter was still a toddler, I attended a wedding in Long Island. I was at an age in my life where there was nothing unusual about attending weddings. I was going to an Episcopalian church where many people my age were getting married. As good Episcopalians we were used to boldly proclaiming the affirmation when we were asked if we would do all in our power to support the new couple.

Most of us moved on from those days in New York City and I wonder how many of my friends are still married and how well all of us have done in our support of these couples.

I had gotten married a few years earlier and like so many people my married life mirrored the married life of my parents. I don’t remember seeing much joy or tenderness in my parent’s marriage and I suspect that neither my ex nor I look back at our marriage as having much tenderness or joy. It isn’t surprising that both my marriage and my parent’s marriage ended in divorce.

The wedding on Long Island could have come straight out of the social register. Two young and extremely successful Wall Street professionals, with great lineage, were getting married at one the finest country clubs on Long Island. So, there I was, a child of Ethan Frome attending a Great Gatsby wedding.

A few years later, my friends gave birth to their first and only daughter. My wife at the time stood up at the baptism to become the godmother and promised to do all in her power to make sure the baby would be brought up in the Christian faith.

Alas, neither my first marriage, nor my friend’s marriage turned out the way we had dreamed during those early days. When my marriage fell apart, I was devastated. The pain seemed overwhelming, like it was coming out of some combination of Prozac Nation, Darkness Visible and I Know This Much is True

I know that it couldn’t have been much fun for my daughters at that point in my life. I wasn’t a lot of fun to be around. They needed to grow up quickly, taking more responsibility for their own lives than children should have to take at their age. However, one thing my ex and I agreed to and have struggled hard maintain was not to say anything negative about the other parent in front of the children.

Now, my ex and I have both remarried. I learned a lot from the mistakes of my first marriage and I hope that my ex has learned a lot as well. In my new marriage, I have found, and sought to keep vibrant the joy and tenderness that had been lacking from so much of my earlier life. I also learned the importance of trying to changes oneself and the folly of trying to change others.

All of this provides the backdrop for this weekend. My friends’ daughter is now about twelve. Her school vacation started Friday evening and her parents have been fighting over how she will spend her time.

We live in a society that tells us not to get involved. As noted above, I learned from my divorce not to try and change other people, but only to try and change myself. Also, I’m no psychologist, so I have all kinds of reasons to not get involved. However, the father wanted me to come with him to pick up his daughter, and even though their marriage has ended, I still feel that my vows to support them still have meaning.

The daughter did not want to go with her father. They talked, he waited, he cajoled. Eventually, she came out and had ice cream with him. He continued to press his case for her spending time with him and she continued to protest.

I spoke about my experiences, what it was like to be a father not getting enough time to be with his daughter. I talked about my pain. I talked about how my ex and I had agreed never to say anything negative about each other in front of our children and I encouraged the girl not to tolerate either parent saying something negative about the other. I spoke about how communications had broken down and the girl, unfairly, was needed to be more mature and help improve communications between everyone.

Did she hear what I said? Did her father? I don’t know. I feel sorry for her. The battle between her parents is getting fought out in her. She ends up experiencing much of the hatred and anger and her parents are using up too much of their great skills attacking one another instead of trying to find a common ground and an ability to make their lives better.

Is this a parallel to what is going on in our country or in our world? I don’t know. That would be another long post. However, as I finished writing this and reflecting on all the strife that I am seeing in so many places, I stop and ask myself, “What is worse than being young and idealistic?” Perhaps, it is getting older and cynical as you painfully fight to hold on to the hopes and dreams for a better world.

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Love Is But A Song We Sing...

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good post

Love is....