Family Night

cards_smlLast night Harry and I had some catching up to do because we skipped two days working out.  We hit the gym and pushed hard.  So hard my leg muscles were too weak to climb the stairs when we got home.  But I had a night planned and my mama’s tacos were on the menu.  They are unlike most homemade tacos.  We like to call them gringo tacos cause we grew up white.  Just saying.  And our tacos include ground beef and ketchup.  It’s the secret ingredient.  And lots of onions.  And homemade fried tortillas.  They are so good in their own little way.  I made homemade salsa, guacamole, stuffed jalapeño poppers (for the first time), and the plan was to eat a big dinner and then play a game of Rummy.

My nineteen year-old son and his best friend who is my 17 year-old daughter’s boyfriend, Harry and me.  The 5 of us ate around the table and laughed.  Singing songs, calling each other cheaters (well they were calling me that because I was winning…not just winning…I was pulverizing the competition).  And watching Harry burn his mouth on the poppers because he couldn’t wait to eat them after they came out of the 500 degree oven.  Bad idea.

This is my family.  

After the game (and let’s just say it was NOT a good night for the boys…), my son sat at the piano with his friend crooning to songs they knew by heart but I had never heard, in octaves too high for them to reach.  Harry  went into the guest room where he has some clothes and I stole up to my room to dress for a soak in the spa.  I opened a bottle of wine, poured it into some colorful plastic wine glasses and we made our trek out into the night sky that was lit by a Super Moon.  Me and my Harry just enjoying each other’s company.

My Harry.  

At one point he said, “You wanna jump in the pool to cool off?”  He proceeded to perch himself on his knees on the edge of the spa just above the pool and I protested.  I squatted instead and we counted and both fell in head first with a great splash.

How does life get any better than this?

Head first means trust.  He keeps telling me.  “I’m all in.  100%.”

Everyone carved out their little niches as the evening went on.  My daughter and her boyfriend made plans to go to the theater.  My son invited three more friends over to enjoy the spa and with my wet hair, Harry and I snuggled on the couch watching TV until he was so sleepy he couldn’t hold his eyelids open anymore.

It was a perfect family night.  I love them all with all my heart.  And I would not have wanted to be anywhere else in all the world.

I never want to forget that I had nights like this with them. Before everything changes and they grow up, get careers, and establish families of their own.

I want to remember the easy fun we used to have.  The hard work of parenting never stops but it does pay off.  I had to remind my daughter to be respectful last night and I had to sit my son down to discuss good stewardship of his finances just yesterday.  It’s not over and it will probably never be over.  But I know changes are comin’ and soon.

So for now, I’ll just be grateful for my family and for family nights.

2 responses to “Family Night

  1. Livvy,
    I too had a husband who cheated on me and we are in the process of divorcing. There is no turning back as I would never be able to trust him again. Like you, I also have a Harry (really, that’s his name), a man I met through a dating website who would not have ordinarily answered my email to him (he didn’t want to hear from newly separated women, he also was betrayed and divorced) but I pointed out that he was dismissing a lot of great people without knowing the facts and that he should get over himself. We email daily and talk on the phone often. As he lives almost two hours away, we have only seen each other twice. In many, many ways he is everything I have sought in a partner but have failed to find. However, after our time together this past weekend, I have this strong, strong urge to bolt. I can’t explain it. He is a lovely man. But something is telling me that after all is said and done I will end up, again, hurt so I need to run, not walk, from this. My question for you is, how did you know that you didn’t have to flee screaming into the night from your Harry? My friend Joanna thinks I should hang in and see what transpires, but all I feel like doing is running away from it. It would be a shame to perhaps pass up a chance for happiness, but everything in me is telling me to flee. Thanks for reading this.

    • My Harry and I were friends before we became romantically involved. For me knowing him well first gave me a sense of peace. Knowing he liked me and wanted to know me as a person meant a lot. My suggestion is to take things very slow. Very slow. Give yourself time to get to know him before things get too physical. The distance might actually help this. It took me almost 6 months of talking before we even kissed. Even though I was attracted to him. I was not interested in a dating relationship. I knew if I dated ever again it would be with my best friend. And I knew that took time to build. I’ve been with Harry over a year now and we definitely are each others best friend. Good luck to you.

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