I don't know how to qualify them or explain *why* they are happening but I feel them nonetheless. I've been tossing them over and over in my mind for over 6 months now.
Super Bowl Sunday is an event in my husband's family and their enthusiasm is contagious. Since my dad loves football as well we invited him and my step-mom. My brother was also invited.
This is no small thing because things were very strained between he and I. When we were growing up my biological mother abandoned us, her family. It was left to my dad to be a single-parent/fledgling business owner. My brother did what he could to help my dad take care of the household responsibilities but by the time I hit my sophomore year in high school I was living "wild, young and free" while he was playing dutiful homemaker. The last conversation I had with him before I left for college was him telling me I would, "never be anything more than a stoned slut."
I still feel the sting of those words.
College came and went. I met the man who would become my husband (some of which I wrote about during my time here on DU) and married. My brother had his life and I had mine. He is a restaurant manager and has always been the good student, good employee, hard worker, straight-laced kind of guy. We hadn't spoken through all those years until my father went into the hospital for his heart condition. It thawed the ice somewhat and we had a good talk for a couple of hours just exchanging news of our respective lives. Then, a little over nine months ago my SIL left, taking the kids. My brother was devastated. He was invited to Super Bowl Sunday to get his mind off his troubles and hopefully have a little fun.
During the game he got up and said he was getting another beer. He went into the kitchen while everyone else cheered or jeered the current play according to their team loyalties. I noticed he had been gone a bit long for a simple beer run so I went to the kitchen. He was standing there looking out the window. He didn't turn around to see who I was when I came through the door, he just stood there, the way men do when they don't want to be seen as "unmanly." His pain was palpable.
I didn't know what to say but I wanted to say something. I walked up behind him and put my arms around him. A moment later he broke down. After he regained himself he turned and held me in his arms. He told me I was a good person and how sorry he was for being angry with me all those years. I didn't feel like a good person, I just couldn't bear to see him hurting.
Sadly, his marriage is headed for divorce but my brother is getting stronger by the day. He spends more time with me and our dad now.
The other thing that is *happening* is with my kid SIL, my husband's sister. We spend a lot of time watching her as my FIL is out of town on business or she just wants to spend time with us (my MIL died about 2 years ago). On Sundays we take her to church because it is her dad's wish and especially my MIL's.
When we took her on Mother's Day the kids were taken back to rehearse a song. When they returned each child was carrying a pink rose to present to their mother. My SIL was carrying two which she presented to me.
One in memory of her mother -- the other one was for me.
I don't think I've ever held anyone tighter. Tears rolled down my face as I kissed her beautiful little cheeks over and over and over again.
This post is already over-long. Perhaps soon I'll write about the goings-on with my husband. It created quite the tempest, at first, but I think we're stronger for it now.
Some*THING* is happening. I don't know what it is but I feel it and I'm grateful for it. I'm in awe of it and I welcome it.