I spent last weekend with my two sons, Kelly and Jason. Spending time with Kelly is not news, I visit his home in southern Louisiana several times a year. Spending time with Jason, however, is a whole other thing. By my best guess it has been a dozen years since I have seen or spoken with him. The kicker here is that he lives just across the river in Dutchess County.
Our last contact was in my driveway when he came over for a reason I can't recall, maybe to show me a car he'd bought. As he was leaving, he said that he was getting married in October. I congratulated him. He said it would be a small wedding. I said good. Turns out I wasn't invited. His mother and her husband were. I sent a wedding present anyway and received a card - almost a sympathy card - from his new wife, apologizing. I have had no contact with him since that day in the driveway - until this weekend.
The occasion was Kelly's fortieth birthday celebration, a day learning to drive a race car at a Louisiana track. Jason participated in the program, though he is an experienced race driver. It was a great day for Kelly and I managed to get a lot of photos of them driving.
The evenings were strange. Jason and I talked very little to each other. He offered helpful information when I mentioned my Miata leaked a tiny bit of transmission fluid. We traded opinions about retirement benefits with Kelly, but not much else.
He will be forty-five in October. He has been divorced for several years. I celebrated my sixty-ninth birthday in February. I will be celebrating my thirtieth anniversary with Carol, my second wife, April 4th.
Somebody once said, "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference." That seems to be the case here. It was both happy and heartbreaking to see him in person after so many years. I may never see him again.
Our last contact was in my driveway when he came over for a reason I can't recall, maybe to show me a car he'd bought. As he was leaving, he said that he was getting married in October. I congratulated him. He said it would be a small wedding. I said good. Turns out I wasn't invited. His mother and her husband were. I sent a wedding present anyway and received a card - almost a sympathy card - from his new wife, apologizing. I have had no contact with him since that day in the driveway - until this weekend.
The occasion was Kelly's fortieth birthday celebration, a day learning to drive a race car at a Louisiana track. Jason participated in the program, though he is an experienced race driver. It was a great day for Kelly and I managed to get a lot of photos of them driving.
The evenings were strange. Jason and I talked very little to each other. He offered helpful information when I mentioned my Miata leaked a tiny bit of transmission fluid. We traded opinions about retirement benefits with Kelly, but not much else.
He will be forty-five in October. He has been divorced for several years. I celebrated my sixty-ninth birthday in February. I will be celebrating my thirtieth anniversary with Carol, my second wife, April 4th.
Somebody once said, "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference." That seems to be the case here. It was both happy and heartbreaking to see him in person after so many years. I may never see him again.
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Comments are always from "anonymous". Often I can identify the author by the content of the comment, but that much cogitation makes my 80 year-old brain tired. Please help out an old man and identify yourself within the text of the comment. Thanks for the comments whether or not you ID yourself. Tom