Comes To Their Party?
So the big secret eluded us late Saturday. Eluded me. But everyone still had a great time.
I'd told plenty of people, but last week was my parents' twenty-fifth anniversary. Stacy and I wanted to celebrate, so we got in cahoots with my parents' best friends and organized a nice get-together at their house for this past Saturday. It amounted to a lot of planning on AIM, by e-mail, and by cell phone in a parking lot away from home, and some sneaking stuff out the door trying not to be noticed...but we almost did it. Mom disarmed me on the way out of the door...I just can't lie to my parents, no matter how hard I try. All told, they had a nice time even if I did blow it at the end.
Twenty-five years. I know it wasn't an easy twenty-five years, but they've seen it through, like so many don't care to try to anymore. Twenty-four of those years were spent as parents, or at least parents-to-be. They've said they weren't really ready for that challenge, but they met it pretty well, you'd think. And twenty-five years down the road, they're looking good for another twenty-five. My grandparents passed that landmark six years ago. They set a good act to follow.
Of course, what made the ceremony special was the crowd. The five or six couples that my mom and dad had known forever, some who my dad knew since he was in a diaper. Forty years ago, when they were Jimmy Brown and Brenda Lavoie and each other's existence wasn't even on the map, those were the people there for them. And now, after twenty-five years of couplehood, there they all were, at the Coutures' house celebrating with a champagne toast.
A relic of a bygone era. A relic I wish I could have kept for myself.
My parents' time was a different time, when people stayed at home and stayed local. No one went too far away. Maybe it wasn't such a different time...Howie mentioned that his associates found it strange when he said he still saw the people he went to school with years before. But it was more common then. It's unheard of now.
I wish I could have that. A few close friends I've known forever, friends who are close geographically, too. I have my close friends, but at best they're a few hours away by car, at worst an hour or two by plane. It's an overnight jaunt, not a ten-minute drive. There's something comforting in proximity. And there's something about people you know who you can go out with. I still miss that from college.
But yet, at the same time, I don't want to be bound to this corner of the state or the country. I want to be able to go where I want to, even if I don't know where that might be. I'm still trying to find my place here, wherever that might be, but I sure as hell don't want to be alone once I'm there.
I've been thinking about that sort of thing a lot lately. Would I commute an hour to work? If so, would I be wise to move somewhere else, somewhere I feel alive? The only time I see people close to my age is if I'm at the grocery store, or at the mall, and then it's "see" in terms of vision only, not in terms of making one's acquaintance. It's unsettling, uncomfortable...and I need more out of life than this. However, I do have my responsibilities at work. Such is my question. Would I be happy with a new job, living here? Or could I be happy with the same job, living out of town? I'm inclined to believe the latter, and I certainly want to test that first. You can always move, but you can't just go back to work.
I have time to find the answers. I just wish I were a bit closer by now.
I'd told plenty of people, but last week was my parents' twenty-fifth anniversary. Stacy and I wanted to celebrate, so we got in cahoots with my parents' best friends and organized a nice get-together at their house for this past Saturday. It amounted to a lot of planning on AIM, by e-mail, and by cell phone in a parking lot away from home, and some sneaking stuff out the door trying not to be noticed...but we almost did it. Mom disarmed me on the way out of the door...I just can't lie to my parents, no matter how hard I try. All told, they had a nice time even if I did blow it at the end.
Twenty-five years. I know it wasn't an easy twenty-five years, but they've seen it through, like so many don't care to try to anymore. Twenty-four of those years were spent as parents, or at least parents-to-be. They've said they weren't really ready for that challenge, but they met it pretty well, you'd think. And twenty-five years down the road, they're looking good for another twenty-five. My grandparents passed that landmark six years ago. They set a good act to follow.
Of course, what made the ceremony special was the crowd. The five or six couples that my mom and dad had known forever, some who my dad knew since he was in a diaper. Forty years ago, when they were Jimmy Brown and Brenda Lavoie and each other's existence wasn't even on the map, those were the people there for them. And now, after twenty-five years of couplehood, there they all were, at the Coutures' house celebrating with a champagne toast.
A relic of a bygone era. A relic I wish I could have kept for myself.
My parents' time was a different time, when people stayed at home and stayed local. No one went too far away. Maybe it wasn't such a different time...Howie mentioned that his associates found it strange when he said he still saw the people he went to school with years before. But it was more common then. It's unheard of now.
I wish I could have that. A few close friends I've known forever, friends who are close geographically, too. I have my close friends, but at best they're a few hours away by car, at worst an hour or two by plane. It's an overnight jaunt, not a ten-minute drive. There's something comforting in proximity. And there's something about people you know who you can go out with. I still miss that from college.
But yet, at the same time, I don't want to be bound to this corner of the state or the country. I want to be able to go where I want to, even if I don't know where that might be. I'm still trying to find my place here, wherever that might be, but I sure as hell don't want to be alone once I'm there.
I've been thinking about that sort of thing a lot lately. Would I commute an hour to work? If so, would I be wise to move somewhere else, somewhere I feel alive? The only time I see people close to my age is if I'm at the grocery store, or at the mall, and then it's "see" in terms of vision only, not in terms of making one's acquaintance. It's unsettling, uncomfortable...and I need more out of life than this. However, I do have my responsibilities at work. Such is my question. Would I be happy with a new job, living here? Or could I be happy with the same job, living out of town? I'm inclined to believe the latter, and I certainly want to test that first. You can always move, but you can't just go back to work.
I have time to find the answers. I just wish I were a bit closer by now.