A Broken Family We Are Not

It's 5pm and I am packing Jack and his overnight bag into my little Honda Civic.  "Can I bring my snow shovel?", he asks.  "Sure bud", I say, "but you'll have to leave it in the car once we get to Daddy's, you can't bring the shovel on the train ride home Sunday".  Easy enough, he seems to understand.  And as we pull out of the parking lot of our new condo complex, a place I am happy to call home, I get lost in my thoughts.  Who would have thought that I would ever be driving my son to his Dad's new apartment with his new girlfriend?  Who would have thought that I would be feeling "okay" about meeting this new woman? Certainly not me.  I float in my thoughts waiting for feelings of jealousy, anger, irritation, sadness to rise, but they don't, they really don't.  I feel okay and okay in a good, steady, contented way.  It's not a "fine", it's simply an "okay".  I sit there in my driver's seat watching the drops of rain on my window and allow myself this simple feeling of okay.  

Suddenly I come to as this shadow is creeping up on the passenger side of the car.  It startles me and then I hear, "look Mommy, a bridge!".  I sigh and laugh.  The shovel.  Jack has made a "bridge" with the handle of his shovel from the passenger seat back to the headrest of his booster seat. "You're a character Jack Spencer", I say and I add, "get that shovel away from head please".  This request starts a series of, "is this too close to your head Mommy?", "how about here?", "is this far enough away?", and "oops, sorry Mommy" as the shovel inevitably hits my head.  It is no longer a request, now it's a demand, "Jack get that shovel away from me, keep it in the backseat, I don't want to see it for the rest of the trip".  I smile to myself, 'he sure is something' and I adore him.

An hour later and I am pulling out of the driveway of Jack's Dad's new place waving to my little man, his father, and his father's new girlfriend.  As I drive away, I beep the horn knowing that will make Jack smile.  I don't feel weird.  I don't feel sad. I don't feel angry.  I feel relieved to see that my son is spending the weekend in a clean, nice house with two people who seem genuinely happy to see him.  I drive down the road and I feel okay.  Another smile crosses my face.  I am leaving my ex husband's house and I am driving to GG and Tante's (Jack's name for his Grand Godmothers) house, Jack's Great Godmothers on his Dad's side.  I am driving there because I have been invited for dinner.  Just me.  No Jack.  "Would people think this is weird?", I wonder to myself.  I am invited there because we remain family.  GG and Tante have been in my life since I was 20.  I am now 35.  Yes, I divorced their Godson, but I didn't divorce them.  They are family.  They are friends.  I enjoy their company and I think the feeling is mutual.

I sit down at the familiar table in their modern studio apartment with large windows overlooking my favorite city, Boston.  The red wine is poured, the dinner put on the table.  I take my first bite of the risotto cake with a bit of salad already on my fork.  I wash it down with a sip of wine. I sit back.  I look out at the city.  I look at GG and Tante and I say, "I've missed your cooking".  I savor in the familiar tastes of 15 years past.  Sure, I am sitting here at a table set only for three.  My ex husband is not by my side, but that's okay.  This is okay.  I am with family, GG and Tante.  And they, as well, seem to think this is all okay.  As the night goes on and we talk and enjoy our meal, I can't help but be grateful to have such wonderful people in my life.  That a tragedy such as divorce has not broken up family, more importantly Jack's family.  I am in awe of the people in our lives that I consider Jack's family.  He's so loved.  This unbroken family is the reason Jack is full of life, wonder, curiosity, energy, and laughs.  He is surrounded by amazing people and I know his family is not done growing. More people will come into our lives that will become family.  Our family adds on, members do not get replaced.  Our "family" is not broken.  This realization makes me know all is okay and okay is good right now.