family truckster...

Ah, the road to Thanksgiving...

The pushing and pulling of the in-laws, the out-laws, the rubes, the big-mouths, the gnashing of teeth, the snide remarks, the heartbreak of "O.P.S." - other people's stuffing, the gravy-making fiascos, the goofy aprons, and, most of all, the inability to remember the real reason for the holiday: gratitude and family.

Oh, God...  a Norman Rockwell moment.

Roles change as we go from a being single to being married.. and (make no mistake about it) when you are standing in front of a clergyman, you are NOT marrying one person ----at all. You think when you are on your cute little honeymoon that this is your only partner in this union. Nope. Sorry. You are marrying an entire community of their relatives. You can't tell any youngster this when they are tying the knot because at twenty-six years-old... after all...

they.know.everything.

uh... no.

Yes. I was brilliant too until I turned around thirty-eight years-old and I realized that not only was I a complete imbecile, but I had much to learn. As a sixty-something, I have to be very careful not to wax poetic all over everyone around me and give them my information diarrhea.

 okay, I'm doing it now... 

Going through life's stages and bursting forth through this cocoon of my formerly-brillllliant-human-self is terribly painful as I analyze my plethora of foibles, my horde of insecurities, my gibber gabber, my lack of self-discipline and the legendary bouts of depression that I've exhibited all over America. The only trick now is to come out the other side with humility rather than spread the hot molten lava of my opinions (that erupts ever so regularly) from this irresponsible fissure called my big mouth. I do have a certain amount wisdom but mustn't let my ego ruin the moment by shoving all this knowledge up the asses of those youngsters around me - including the forty-somethings. It's so damn tempting, but I must refrain.

It's hard to hold back this kind of...  mmm... enlightenment.

Having said this (another expression I despise), I must give up the family truckster because as a unit we are not on that road anymore. I am not the rudder of this ship at this juncture nor am I the one in charge of time schedules, for whom they vote, what they name their kids, how they discipline, whether or not they show up for Thanksgiving, Christmas or any other family event or holiday.

I did my bit. I must admit that at times I seethe over their decisions but most of the time they are little versions of myself and do fine without me altogether. That was my goal after all - to die knowing that they are just fine. Hell, they don't even have any tattoos yet, so all in all, I'm pretty happy. I must admit, I drove that last one home or (shall I say) down their little throats.

God, it's so damn hard being old and knowing absolutely everything. 

kidding.

~actually, Im dead serious~

;)