A typical dad concern. I wasn't eager to mention it. Shutting up is an art form, one I struggle to master. Like all parents everywhere, I worry, and there is a talismanic quality to expressing that worry by delivering warnings about specific dangers. If you mention them, they go away or, at least lessen, and maybe even absolve you from blame, a little. I warned the younger boy: you're the best man. It's your job to make sure nothing goes awry. The point of a bachelor party is to set the stage for a wedding, not derail it.
They left Friday. A cone of silence. "I hope they're having fun in Michigan..." I'd say to my wife, wanly, several times. Like trying to light wet kindling, but the topic died out there. Then both returned Sunday afternoon. At first reluctant to say what had happened. But eventually my wife and I drew it out of them. Jet skis. Fishing. Pickleball. Poker. And something called "Hand & Brain Chess."
Despite a lifetime of playing chess, I had never heard of Hand & Brain Chess. It's a way for four people to play a game, two teams of two. On each side, one player is the Brain. The Brain announces which of the six varieties of pieces will move next: rook, knight, bishop, queen, king or pawn. Then the Hand makes the move by selecting one of the named pieces — a bishop, say — and deciding where it should go.
Later, my older son was describing the weekend over the phone to his fiance back in New Jersey. He was sprawled on the sofa in our living room, so I didn't feel guilty listening in.
"We opened to E4/C6," he said. The Caro Kann Defense. "Then D4,D5. There were isolated tripled pawns. We played to a draw. It was a wild time."
I smiled, repeating that phrase to myself. "It was a wild time." So good to have the boys home, even briefly. I missed having their lives going on around me, and was silly to have worried.
They left Friday. A cone of silence. "I hope they're having fun in Michigan..." I'd say to my wife, wanly, several times. Like trying to light wet kindling, but the topic died out there. Then both returned Sunday afternoon. At first reluctant to say what had happened. But eventually my wife and I drew it out of them. Jet skis. Fishing. Pickleball. Poker. And something called "Hand & Brain Chess."
Despite a lifetime of playing chess, I had never heard of Hand & Brain Chess. It's a way for four people to play a game, two teams of two. On each side, one player is the Brain. The Brain announces which of the six varieties of pieces will move next: rook, knight, bishop, queen, king or pawn. Then the Hand makes the move by selecting one of the named pieces — a bishop, say — and deciding where it should go.
Later, my older son was describing the weekend over the phone to his fiance back in New Jersey. He was sprawled on the sofa in our living room, so I didn't feel guilty listening in.
"We opened to E4/C6," he said. The Caro Kann Defense. "Then D4,D5. There were isolated tripled pawns. We played to a draw. It was a wild time."
I smiled, repeating that phrase to myself. "It was a wild time." So good to have the boys home, even briefly. I missed having their lives going on around me, and was silly to have worried.
Exciting days these are with your son's wedding right around the corner. And younger brother is his best man.
ReplyDeleteIt just so happens that my daughter is getting married in mid July and her younger sister is maid of honor. The day of the wedding also falls on my wife's birthday and our anniversary.
Unfortunately I won't be wearing a seersucker suit.
I had a buddy. A very wise man. No legs and one eye. 38 years sober. He used to say. “Shut up. Sit down. And smile”. Very difficult for some of us 😜
ReplyDeleteHaving read EGGD for a long time and getting glimpses of your boys’ personalities the only thing I’m surprised about is that you were worried. Our kids show us pretty early on who they are. Mazel Tov on the upcoming wedding…and on the other future one too. It’s a fun and exciting time.
ReplyDeleteThere is no end to the worrying, Neil. My son is 37 and has been in the military, in one active duty form or another, since he was 20. He is married with a 3 year old daughter, 2 more people for me to worry about. They live 5 blocks from me. I see them all the time. My daughter will be 30, she still lives at home with me, so does her boyfriend. I worry about them. There is no end to it, and yet, like guilt, it is pretty much a useless emotion. Why do we do it? I often think about the Greek myths. A mother gets wind of something awful coming for her son, so she sets him off on a completely different path, where he is defeated by a different awful thing. Ugh!
ReplyDeleteMaybe it was out of fashion in the 60s and 70s. Or maybe I ran in different circles, and with a different crowd. Yeah, that had to be it. Hippies didn't have bachelor parties or elaborate weddings. Or even weddings at all. Or marriages, for that matter. Bottom line: I've never attended a bachelor party. Or even entertained the idea of having one. Hell, I didn't marry until I was forty. That's a little long in the tooth for debauchery.
ReplyDeleteAll parents worry about their young adult children. I think they worry more about what they are not as familiar with. I’m guessing you would not have worried as much if they were spending the weekend in NYC. You would probably feel confident they would know how to keep safe in a big city.
ReplyDeleteMost parents in rural Michigan would not worry if their kids were out deer hunting or kayak fishing in a river. They would be worried if their kids were spending the weekend in Chicago or any large city.
I found out later they drove an ATV, which would have really worried me, had I known, as kids tend to flip those and break their necks. But they were fine. Luck smileth on us.
DeleteNo matter how old they are one's concern for them never stops. I agree that it may be worth mentioning possible dangers.
ReplyDeleteOnly if you think they couldn’t possibly be aware of them, and even then only if you would say the same thing to one of your own friends. Can you think of any warning your parents gave you after you were an adult that you welcomed? And that affected your actions?
DeleteAlthough not exclusively a Jewish thing, we yids have always taken worry to the next level. No apologies necessary. Mazel tov on raising two fine young men. No surprise there. Loyal readers know you have generously shared their evolution over the years.
ReplyDeleteShutting up is not always silent. I am reminded of Miss Manners’ advice to the groom’s mother that all she should say at the wedding is how lovely everything is.
ReplyDeleteWhen my younger son told me he'd gone parachuting the day before was the moment I realized that worrying did no good.
ReplyDeleteWell it might make your child smart enough to not tell you about the scary things they are doing until after they are done.
DeleteTook my sister thirty or forty years to tell my mother about her solo hikes through Harms Woods, where she used to ride horses at the stables west of Old Orchard. She was a kid, probably no more than eleven or twelve.
DeleteThat suburban Forest Preserve, near to where the Holocaust Museum now stands, was very sketchy in the 60s. Gangbangers, hobos, runaways, and other assorted lowlifes. Bodies were found there. Missing females, and victims of Mob hits. When she told me about what she'd done, all those years ago, i just shook my head and said: "Either someone was watching over you...or you were very, very lucky."
Show up; shut up; wear beige.
ReplyDeleteYeah drowning. It's a real concern in my mind, especially for my kids. They're the age that my best friend drown. A few weeks before my first wedding. He was fishing at Montrose harbor and had invited me but I had a piano to move in the morning and reminded him that he had promised to come help. Well he never came. He drowned at at the rocks. I've always felt like I was a contributing factor to his death. Fine man. I still miss him
ReplyDelete