Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I did this too. when I was EIGHTEEN. It's really funny how Bemo is the only one in his family diagnosed with a mental disorder (the manic depression) and yet seems to be the most sane among his family at the moment. His problems with his sister and younger brother aside, and his bad history with his dad likewise, we figured that his mom had her head on straight, and was a fairly sensible woman. Until last night, that is. The story plays out like this: Woman looks up old high school boyfriend on the internet to see what he's up to these days. Old high school boyfriend replies. Is staying in shelter as wife has just kicked him out after many years of marriage. Is nonetheless thrilled to hear from old high school girlfriend. Correspondence ensues. Woman is teased by her son and daughter-in-law about internet relationship. Teasing is rebuffed firmly. Correspondence continues. Son and daughter-in-law get a telephone call yesterday night informing them that woman has accepted old high school boyfriend's proposal of marriage. Should I mention that the guy lives in California, and that she hasn't seen him for forty years, and will be going out to visit him in Christmas? What in the holy hell prevented her from saying, "That's very sweet, but why don't we wait until we meet each other again?" Nope. They're busily planning their life together, and will marry...after his divorce is finalized. (Note: the possibility of this being a wicked rebound relationship on his part doesn't seem to have occured to her.) I don't know if I was more shocked by this, or by her offhand remark that if she moved out to California, she wouldn't take her cat Bitsy. She said it like it was silly of me to think that she would, and that just floored me. She's truly from a different generation, where the responsibilities of having a pet are more easily sloughed off. She's not going overseas, it wouldn't traumatize the cat to move to California. But then, you know, she has no idea if he's allergic to them. Or if he has bad BO. Or all of his teeth. Or if, in the forty years since she's seen him, he's become a HOMICIDAL AXE MURDERER WITH A NICE COLLECTION OF SKULLS DECORATING HIS LIVING ROOM. She's more than old enough to make her own choices, so Bemo and I will bite our tounges firmly, and wish her all the best. I hope it does work out for her. I hope he's a wonderful man. But she's put herself in a position where things have the potential to go pear-shaped, and she didn't have to. 9:43 a.m. - 2003-07-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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