Perhaps one of the more revealing emails that I have received over the past few years included this image of a man and a little girl.
I met Gail Anderson fifty-one years ago. She sent me this email recently, saying that for her it represented a relationship that we had in 1968. She was eight; I was twenty-one..
Many years ago Jadyne and I took our kids to Hawaii. We were sitting around a hotel open-air fireplace one cool evening when we overhead a conversation between a father and his daughter. They had been snorkeling when he lost sight of her. “Dad,” she said, “You needn’t worry about me. I was fine, I’m thirty-five!” He replied, “You don’t understand. I’m your father!” Some things simply don’t change.
When Jennifer was 21 she went to Bangkok and traveled around Asia for about fifteen months, living in virtually every country for a month or so. We were worried about her so Jadyne and I, after realizing that she wouldn’t be home by Christmas, wanted to confirm for ourselves that she was okay, so we agreed to meet her in April in Hanoi. When I saw how comfortable she was in dealing with the Vietnamese in the markets and hotels our respective roles reversed. She was now in charge, as she knew more about bargaining, traveling, and simply getting along in Asia than I did. I realized subconsciously that this signified not only a growth in her but also a real change in our relationship, and that I could put away my worries and fears about her being able to manage in these circumstances. I could rely on her experience to provide advice. But, as I began to recognize that she had grown into a capable and independent young woman, and second, that in Vietnam our roles had switched, I was (and am), still her father. C’est la meme chose.
My relationship with my two brothers—Jack in Cincinnati and Bill, who lives just five minutes away, has changed over the years. I was the youngest of three, and even though Bill was a stepbrother, the age difference when we were growing up was the biggest factor in our relationship. That was especially true with Jack, my “real” brother. Now that we are all grown up the age difference is irrelevant, and what has determined or affected how we relate to each other has more to do with our understandings of who we are today. And by “who we are” I’m referring to our interests.. I have become closer to my stepbrother while maintaining a closeness with my “real” brother.
Jadyne spent two days with her high school friends in Sonoma, which she does once or twice a year. These are girls (women) who were close in high school. They still enjoy each other’s company for a night once a year or so. They can talk, but they have less in common today than when they were little Catholic schoolgirls with common interests and experiences. Relationships are living things, susceptible to change in so many ways, especially when people see each other frequently.
Marriages break up. The couple has grown (or not), and in either case the relationship changes. Some remain in those relationships “for the kids” even when the love is gone and the relationship has stagnated or failed to meet the changing needs of one or the other. In more successful marriages the couple embraces, accepts, or adjusts to the inevitable changes, and the changes enhance the relationship.
And that brings me back to the photo. Eight year old Gail will be sixty this year. Twenty-one year old David will be seventy-three. Because we haven’t seen each other for almost a quarter of a century our relationship hasn’t evolved the way others might. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Fifty years ago she needed someone like me. And fifty years ago I needed someone like her. I was the youngest of three brothers. I never had a sister. She was that little sister. We still write to each other occasionally, mostly about our kids, our grandchildren, and the everyday comings and goings in our lives. We’re friends, maintaining a friendship and relationship that began fifty-one years ago, and even though we’re both grandparents, the foundation of our relationship is still frozen in the image of the little girl holding onto her doll and the man who soothes and comforts her.
Plus Ca Change Plus La Meme Chose