Something amazing happened when I graduated from high school in 2005. My family was a little more than three years into my parents' divorce when I walked the stage and flipped my tassel, and when it was all over it was time for a celebratory dinner. Uncles, grandparents and cousins crowded happily around me and the question arose that any kid from a split family dreads - do I want to have dinner with my mom's family or my dad's family? In such a setting, the potential for family drama was off the charts.
But something incredible happened. I can't even remember who initiated it, but the next thing I knew we were at Don Pablo's and I was at the head of a table of twenty people. My mother's relatives and father's relatives were all interspersed and passing baskets of chips, laughing together as though the clock had been set back four years and there was no heartache. I remember little else about my graduation, but that memory sticks clear and strong and precious.
A couple of years ago my mother got remarried to a guy named Trent. And amazing things have been occurring lately.
I first saw it one night at the baseball diamond. After one of my sister's softball games on a sunny Saturday in May, Dave wanted to stay behind to practice pitching. My siblings joined us on the field, followed by my stepdad and my sister's boyfriend, and then my father as well. Dad and Trent made amiable small talk as we threw the ball around the bases and took turns at bat, nearly able to fill the whole field with our motley crew. I marveled at the scene as I stood at third base; it was so bizarre and wonderful.
Dave was a pitcher in high school, and I had been a catcher - the perfect match. I was raised listening to Cleveland Indians games on the radio in the car with my father every summer. Trent is actually a Cincinnati Reds fan, but we can forgive him of that. And now both of my younger siblings are on baseball and softball teams during both school and summer. We all love baseball.
I tell you this because baseball is what started to bring the splinters of our family back together.
And just this past weekend, it happened again. Dave and I invited all of my family to the batting cages. And one by one, everyone showed up and had a good time together. After that, my siblings campaigned for a game of mini golf, and everyone ended up playing. What a strange group we were, centered around us three children - my husband, our mother, our step-father, and our father. Dad ended up winning the game, and made sure to thank me for inviting him before he left. Of course there was a little awkwardness, but, incredibly, it was only a little bit.
And then, I thought my head would spin straight off my shoulders, Trent invited my father to a cookout the following night and Dad accepted. There we all were, lined up in my mother's kitchen passing out drinks and picking at the relish tray, a happy mess of people. We made cheeseburgers on the grill and played badminton and a lawn game called "Washers" that my dad brought over. It was an abnormally near-normal family summer cookout.
I couldn't explain it. I have no idea how such a beautiful thing happened, and I'm probably idealizing it. But it takes a lot of guts and a lot of grace from my parents to make such a gift to me and my siblings happen.
So thanks.
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