Saturday, June 20, 2009

midsummer


That's what it was, maybe. Midsummer. That's why I wanted to get married on Midsummer night's eve, to tap into a little bit of that magic.

The kids and I went to a party yesterday, and are going back later, here. My favourite kind of party, sitting round a big table in the garden, food and more food, some made there, some brought. The kids running around playing, climbing sliding, a bonfire lit.

Especially as Twilight, oops, I mean twilight approached, and the loveliness of that kind of party increased: There were bats, swooping and gliding and flipping after bugs, framed in the still light sky above the mountains. The kids playing and waving glow sticks, the tweenies hanging out and talking, and finding their own space to play. Teenagers chatting and chilling, and hopefully sneaking a beer or even a kiss, and twentysomethings with guitars, new babies, older people talking, drinking, minding children, grandparents, holding the fort, hosting, because.

Ach, because poor Billy had a febrile convulsion yesterday afternoon, took a while to come out of it, and his poor parents had to bring him into hospital. His dad came home to man the party but he was shaken, and Ciara and Billy weren't there. I looked at Ed, face lit by the glow of his sparkler in the dark, I saw the photo Ciara would have taken of him: sometimes I wonder just how she does it, captures the pictures that always blow me away, but there it was, right there, no artistry to it at all.

Everything's ok, and it seems it's not as serious as it seems, some kids just have a predisposition to them when they get fevers, and this is the age it manifests. They grow out of it. Still. Alarming. And sad they weren't there.

But hopefully we'll get to go back for round two later.

But that is exactly what I love a party to be, a fire, and space, and a little bit of glowing magic. Everyone relaxed and friendly. It felt like community, safe and perfect, except for the little boy and his mum, missing it. I do miss space, and a view, though our garden looks beautiful when decked in tealights. But there's no room for a bonfire or ten kids, I'm afraid. I did want to have a party for my anniversary, but Axel is not so keen. And he has a gig each night this weekend. So instead I'll go to Ciara's and drink in the atmosphere of someone elses celebration. I suppose that's just all there is to do.

I'm not sure what to do with that. My cousellor suggested that rather than just being hurt and disappointed about Axel not wanting to celebrate, I should just tell him I feel upset we're not, and ask if we can do something during the week.

But the problem is, that's not what I want. I want midsummer, and firelight, and we got married seven years ago today, sort of thing. Not dinner midweek and coming home to lie on the sofa, stuffed (him) and unsatisfied (me) as is our usual practice.

19 comments:

Ms. Moon said...

Oh, Jo. Not fair that you're not getting the marriage magic you want. I don't know what to say except to take whatever magic is offered. Sounds like the gatherings are offering a lot.
Still, that doesn't help the silent wounding, does it?

Tatty Franey said...

would you be happier if there was no Axel? Just you and the kids?
you can't change other people. but you can change yourself and you can also change the situation.

jothemama said...

Um. As you can imagine, Tatty, that is actually a question I have asked myself and considered at length. And if I thought it was the case, all things considered, I might do it.

Be really careful proffering divorce as some sort of easy solution. It's not some sort of fairytale answer, and there's more people than just me to consider.

I know what I want, and a separation isn't it.

Xbox4NappyRash said...

That counsellor gives good advice I think.

jothemama said...

Well, obviously. I'm not contesting it. It's just not really going to fix anything for me in this case.

Xbox4NappyRash said...

In this case no. Longer term it could.

Imagine midsummer next year?

Tatty Franey said...

my husband is divorced and he has a daughter. i know very well how other people are affected by it. it's not the easy way out, but it's a reality and a possibility. i don't know your relationship, i only see the snippets you post in the blog. a lot of the times, to me, you don't sound happy.
i am not judging. and weird as this may sound, as we never met, but i really like you, and i would love to be able to help.
this comment came out totally clumsy, like me.

jothemama said...

No, Tatty, I'm sorry for being defensive.

I just get it a lot, and I don't think that means it's the answer.

If I thought the positives of it would outweight the negatives of it for everyone involved, I'd consider it seriously. But I don't think they remotely would.

Tatty Franey said...

you have 100% the right to be defensive. it's your blog :) and more importantly your life. if you know deep inside that separating is not the answer, that's half the battle. unfortunately the other half is not easy.
i'd like to meet you for a chat one day. i promise i'm not a stalker :) as i said, you (and darragh) are just people i feel myself gravitating towards in the weirdness of the internet

jothemama said...

You're a bit far away though, I'm on the East coast?

Tatty Franey said...

i'm in town, D1!

Ciara said...

Jo. I've said it before. I think you think it's worth fighting for. So do. I wish you would. I truly do. But you seem at a loss as to how to do that. And I have no answers. But all I can say is trying something, anything, has to be better than the suspended happiness you find yourself in.

You deserve happiness. And only you know what will bring that. And I'm glad you seem to know what your heart wants. And even if ultimately it's not what you get, then if you have fought for it you'll have won something. And maybe that'll simply be respect and gratitude for yourself and the effort you made.
C x

Ciara said...

And damn but I wish I had been there to make a fuss of you on your anniversary...

laughykate said...

Sometimes you need to scare yourself to realise how much you have got.

jothemama said...

I'm not sure what that means?

laughykate said...

Sometimes iF you go down that road, you put yourself in that position of being apart, it really makes you realise how good it is to be together. You forget about the bad stuff, or it makes you work on the bad stuff and appreciate the good stuff so much more.

jothemama said...

See, I'd rather just work it out without ripping my kids' lives up, you know?

It's just hard when I'm trying to do it all by myself. Badly. It's hard to know how to make it right.

laughykate said...

Exactly. You know that, so work with that. And are you doing it that badly, or do you just have really high standards and are just beating yourself up?

jothemama said...

All I know is, I feel fucking miserable, and my relationship is shit. BUT! I've had a bit to drink, here, in celebration of my anniversary, and I don't think I should get into it anymore, with friends and srtangers from across the world.

Sorry.

I haven't been posting about this much, of late, til now, because of the crappiness of doing those posts, but sometimes it just spills over a little.

Enough, now, end of.