Please bear with me.
I had a couple pints of Alexander Keith's earlier and am currently working on a fairly generous tumbler of Napoleon Brandy. I have a warm and fuzzy feeling.
Those two pints were had with James, a good friend of mine. I met him and Joe the Pro at a pub near downtown Edmonton, Saturday night. (Joe the Pro is a squash player, from whom I've had lessons, and who's sort of squandered his generous talent via a rather prodigious amount of gambling and excessive drinking and partying. But that's beside the point.)
James was my running partner a few years ago and a bit of an emotional sounding board; I put that aspect of our friendship to good use when he convinced me to go back to the store where I met this cute auburn-haired, hazel-eyed chick and get over my inhibitions and bloody well ask her out already. He then went so far as to take out a 24-hour marriage license (at our request) and performed the ceremony that bound me and Amy in the wholly bonds of civil matrimony. He got quite choked up when we asked that of him, and he presided very nicely.
He and I don't have so much in common any more and Saturday night was the first I've seen and spoken to him in a year.
There's a part of me that is still somewhat torn to note that there are my married friends and there are all my other friends. My wife, God bless her tolerant heart, is well aware that I have a hard time letting go of certain things, and my clinging to both sides of this dichotomy is one of them.
My other friends still have house parties and get together for drinks on weekday (!!) evenings and can think of planning a group cruise for the summer of 2008 and that sort of stuff. My married friends, for the most part, all have young kids and domestic commitments and yearn for that elusive faerie we have come to know as Free Time.
The other friends still want to make us part of their Free Time, and invite us out to play with her, but their Free Time is more a happy-go-lucky faerie, whereas my Free Time sees that big honkin' pile of laundry and dishes and puke-stained carpet and half full (or is it half empty?) Job Jar and has this annoying habit of tapping her foot so loudly that a guy needs a couple pints of beer and three (or four) fingers of Napoleon Brandy just to quell the tapping to a dull murmur in the background.
Have I made a point yet? I have no idea. I'm down to two fingers of brandy and rambling.
Let me say this:
I'm participating in my first ever wedding party at the end of July. First other than my own, that is. It's for the man who was the best man at my wedding and for whom I was expecting to return the service. Instead, I'll be standing one additional place to his left. But I don't begrudge him the change. I'm having a hard enough time justifying my attendance at the stag party, let alone planning the damn thing.
Commitments of the family sort supersede all others (in my mind), especially at the early stage of the game in which I find myself. Friendships that were born in and served one purpose during a previous phase of my life have morphed; they need not be cast by the wayside (and I certainly don't intend them to be), but to think they can be nurtured in the same way as they were is naive. I can sometimes be alarmingly so.
One of my married friends recently celebrated the birth of his second daughter and I Emailed him this week to invite ourselves over to see the new addition, making mention of the fact that it's easier for folks in their position to welcome company than to parade about - speaking from experience. He responded by welcoming us whenever (just call ahead), and noted that they've sort of isolated themselves ever since starting a family... it's just easier that way.
There is certainly an element of forced isolation - relatively speaking - once a couple starts their own family, which can then be balanced by maintaining certain of the more important aspects of interactions outside that nucleus.
It is this balance that I continue to struggle with. I wanna have my cake and eat it too.
I'll probably be returning to this issue a number of times as I think about it more. The end state I'm looking for is touched on by a favourite quote I'll end with:
True happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp and noise; it arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one's self, and in the next from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions.
~Joseph Addison
I echo many of these sentiments. I spend a few minutes talking to friends of times past, especially those still single, and quickly run out of conversation. Over the years, as we spend less time together, all we have are the adventures of the past, and re-hashing those gets old after a while.
Posted by: Mark | Sunday, 25 June 2006 at 11:18 AM
You know, Si, I don't think this dichotomy has healed itself yet even for me, and Max is 19 and going away to school. Our childless friends continue to have a life very different from our own, with other priorities and values. They have become, over the years, more rather than less selfish, it seems to me. Not to put too fine a point on it. Some of them now even seem to fit into the stubborn old codger category — people who don't like children, can't tolerate any kind of mess, get upset if someone walks through their yard unbidden and god forbid steps on a flower, hate any kind of noise, and seem unable to stand any sort of lack of control.
Of course, there are exceptions to this rule, but they seem to be in the minority.
I no longer envy the childless couples their freedom. My own freedom has returned, more or less, and with it the rewards of 19 years of relative isolation, sacrifice of my personal agenda, and inconvenience: depth, flexibility, tolerance, joy, and a love of children.
And Simon, this is the subject of a post I was considering for this weekend, after a few of these couples attended Max's grad party and afterwards one in particular let it be known that they felt uncomfortable, and don't like teenagers. But those same people who said these things are nonetheless dear to us, and read my blog. So thanks!
Posted by: marian | Sunday, 25 June 2006 at 11:42 AM
'Nother comment on the same entry.
We were married for 11 years before Ben was born, so the adjustment was a bit tough after we had grown so accustomed to spontaneity and lack of commitments.
Now, we don't know what the heck we did with our time, but I suspect we just watched a lot more TV.
Posted by: Mark | Sunday, 25 June 2006 at 11:11 PM
Marian, your comment reminds me of the next door neighbours that Chevy Chase had in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Totally. Nice to hear that there are those rewards out the end of it. Not that I don't feel them already, but they're still just budding. Kind of reminds me of Robert Frost's poem: The Road Not Taken.
Mark, I can REALLY relate to rehashing the old stories thing. And if I could, I'd put a sledgehammer through my TV today, though it mean no more Discovery Channel.
Posted by: Simon | Sunday, 25 June 2006 at 11:27 PM
I had a friend who was childless despite years of trying. She once confided to me that seeing friends who'd had children begin to drift away and associate more frequently with others who also had children was VERY hard on her. She felt like a leper. Just adding this here so that you know that some friends still want to be included when you have time, even if they can't/don't have children. And they do understand the lack of time issue, just not the 'we have time for them, but not you' gig. Not that I think you do that, just....sayin'. It was an eye-opener for me. I had figured childless couples wouldn't WANT to be climbed on by my tazmanian devils.
Posted by: elizabeth | Monday, 26 June 2006 at 07:08 AM
As one of those childless couples I can say it does not matter to me if my family or friends brings the kids over to the house or not. We like having visitors and are just as cranky and bitchy about getting ready to go (at least one half of us is....) than it is when my brother or sister packs up their brood and brings them along.
Also, this is a wonderful thing this Internet idea. I stay in touch with more people and can keep more in tune with what is happening to everyone without the inconvience of feeding guests ;)
I have not had the pleasure of Si's or Elizabeth's kids to throw in the air or toss up on my shoulders. Then again the mothers are likely just as happy for that as well.
Fewer but better gatherings of friends is what I look forward to.
BOB
Posted by: BOB | Tuesday, 27 June 2006 at 08:39 PM
True Mark, but it's not easy from the single's point of view either. We feel the distance, and don't know how to adapt without feeling that it's skewed towards the couple. I mean, as a single myself, it's really difficult to know when I'm being greedy for someone's presence or whether there's too many obstacles to accomodate. It's awkward at best.
Posted by: Jadon | Saturday, 01 July 2006 at 03:57 PM