Definitions

For most of this week, Jamie was sick. And without over-dramatizing things or going into great detail, suffice it to say that it was one of those rare and exceptional hand-wringingly-intense, cause-for-real-concern, bordering-on-kind-of-genuinely-scary types of illnesses. For the past several days I consciously and absentmindedly fretted over how he was doing, checked in on him multiple times throughout each workday, and admonished him for not taking better care of himself, just as I would have back when we were still together as a couple. Two nights this week, when he was in particularly bad shape, he slept on the couch downstairs, at my urging. And, truth be told, I slept easier knowing that since I was just a few footsteps away I could be there for him at a moment's notice, if needed, to help. 

Maybe this is strange, I don't know. What's normal in these situations? Is there a normal?

Through all of this I found myself thinking that, however unconventional, at bottom this is what family is, what it means. This is my family now, my family still. We are a broken home, sure, but there will always be a kind of home between us. We will never stop being family. In five, ten, twenty years, we will still be family.

It's reassuring, I guess. Maybe a little daunting too, the longevity of that connection. But more reassuring than anything else, really.

I've long known that my heart is stubborn. More stubborn than most people's, I reckon. As anyone who knows me very well can tell you, it takes a lot for me to let people in -- to let down my guard fully, to allow myself to be truly vulnerable. But once I do, once I really let you in, you're IN. There have been a few times in my life that I've let the wrong people in and lived to resent and regret this aspect of my own nature, because even when given every indication that I should cut ties and run like hell, I've found it hard to let go, to give up on people, to simply brush them off into the dustbin of my personal history and move on. Stubborn. My heart is a stubborn muscle.

There's another word for that kind of heart-stubbornness, of course. That word is devotion.

Comments

[Diana]

I too have a stubborn heart. I too lock most people out, but once in... they're IN.

[flutter]

that is the most beautiful word for it.

[Ginevra]

"My heart is a stubborn muscle."

good lord, lady, you write your ass off. Here's to crooked pieces of family.

[The Queen of Hyperbole]

You make me cry, for all the right reasons. Seriously, dude, this is beautiful. I hope that Jamie -- and you -- are feeling much better.

[slouching mom]

I'd like to believe that in your situation, I'd be the same way.

[jodifur]

I actually think that is wonderful. And so much better for you daughter than if you too hated each other.

[Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah]

I love it that you guys can be those people who aren't married anymore but still genuinely care about each other. I guarantee this is going to make everything easier on M.

[Amy]

My sister and her ex have such a peaceful collaborative relationship and I am so glad that my nephew has that in his life. Sure, they rub each other the wrong way sometimes, but after they adjusted to their life apart they were able to have an even better relationship than before. It sounds like you are on the road to a different kind of stability and that is comforting.

[Colleen]

"My heart is a stubborn muscle"

There is honestly no better way to put it. I understand completely, for better or for worse. And, I don't think there is a "normal" for these situations. Follow your stubborn heart, and that is your normal. Fuck what anyone else considers normal; your family, however broken or crooked they may be, is YOUR family, YOUR normal.

*hugs* :)

[fridita]

You are beautiful.

[Tami Wyatt]

I totally understand why you did what you did. Mere weeks after I caught my husband red handed with another women he wound up really ill and in the hospital. For some reason no one could believe that I was sitting on one side of his hospital bed and his girlfriend was sitting on the other. Yes, I wanted to pummel the both of them for what had been done to my marriage but you don't just stop loving someone just because you are mad at them. I stayed by his side as long as he needed me and happily he survived his ordeal in the hospital. We proceeded with our divorce and are now dear friends. (Oh, and the girlfriend...she is long, long gone.)

[Habbala]

This post is absolutely beautiful. "my heart is a stubborn muscle" gave me goosebumps.

[MamaKaren]

The dissolution of a marriage won't make someone stop loving someone else as a person and a co-parent. I think the continued caring and devotion is a fantastic thing for your daughter to witness and learn from. Once someone is part of your life, is part of your being, you can't just make that go away (nor should you). He's lucky to have had you in his life, too.

[ozma]

That's pretty cool.

These really might be categories of people: People who are friends with their exes and people who hate their exes for all eternity.

I'm kind of in a third category: I sort of love people from a distance if I've ever loved them, but when people go out, there are out. And it's kind of easy to go out. I don't hate. But I probably could not do that kind of thing, were I to get divorced.

I would prefer to be like you. It's a great trait, what you describe, but it's also a gift to be able to do that.

[Sundry]

This is just lovely, T. Ditto what Ozma said, too.

[Kate]

I think it is so much better to be devoted than the other way around. It shows a lot more personal strength than the alternative. So good for you.

[Mrs Chaos]

Who gets to make up the definition of family anymore? Your heart tells you who belongs and who does not.

My "family" includes some very random (but lovely and awesome) people. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

[Heather B.]

My parents have been separated (well divorced now) since the day before I started kindergarten. And when people have asked how it is I tell them that it's perfectly normal. We still went on trips together for Christmas (to see the Rockettes). They had it worked out so that my brother and I would spend Christmas Eve with my dad at the movies while my mother wrapped presents (we are now 26 and 23 and still do this) and Christmas morning my dad comes over. We would spend Easters together. When my brother had surgery and when there was a blizzard, my father would sleep over.

The point is that it is our normal and that's what I hope for you and M and Jamie; that you develop your own normal and not worry about what others think. I'm 26 and this is all I have ever known and even though some might call it 'broken' (which I personally don't like) it's the way my parents chose to do things so that it would be easier on all four of us.

Anyway, I'm glad you are starting to get there and I hope that in 20 years M feels fortunate despite whatever her family situation.