Life and death

For those of you who haven't already heard, my mom got engaged this year, at 64 years old. She went on a singles' trip to Rome in April, became friends with a fellow traveller, and started dating him after they got back home. Then in October, he proposed to her on top of the Empire State Building on a trip to New York. Now the plan is that she will sell her apartment and move into his house when she retires in April four months from now.

Well, good luck selling anything right now, though my bigger concern is about her moving into a house where this man has lived for the past 30 years. His two grown sons spent half their childhood there, and he would have spent his retirement with his late wife, had she not passed away from a stroke two years ago.

I have been to his home twice now during Christmas, and it breaks my heart to think that his wife must have picked out most everything in it, decorations and furniture. The feminine touch is so obvious. Like the red and white plaid Christmas kitchen curtains with red hearts sewed on. Or the now half torn ribbons tied to the door knobs of the cupboards. Or the fancy-looking sofa cushions.

It feels odd that there are no pictures of his late wife, only the sons and their families. Not that he doesn't seem happy to be with my mom, but he has a sort of tired-happy look on him, that has me wonder how much his heart still hurts, and how much of it is actually Mom's now. I wonder if he is the love of my mom's life, while she is merely a substitute for his beloved wife. It would be understandable, and I know it is something to which I will never have the answer.

I dread their wedding, as I wouldn't know what to say to his sons, who must still be missing their mom. All very awkward. I feel like a trespasser in his home, celebrating his relationship with my mother, while it feels as if the late wife is still there with us.

It also feels very strange that Mom is getting married, and not to Dad, although I have no illusions that their marriage isn't over. Just still not quite used to it. I mean, I am, but I'm not. That may not make sense to everyone, but I think those of you with divorced parents might understand. Perhaps it's got something to with the reminder of the broken marriage I get every birthday, Christmas, Easter, 17th of May... Days we used to spend together as a family. Now, both my parents call to find out if I'm available or if I have already promised myself to the other parent. The divorce may be final for the parents, but it never truly is for the kids.

Anyway. After my parents' divorce, I guess I just assumed I would be married before she would be again, so in that sense I suppose I'm a bit disappointed. It marks the end of something. I don't know exactly what yet. I don't know what to feel about it either. Neither happy or sad. A bit numb? But I am glad that Mom has found love, as it would have been awful if she had died never meeting someone she could be happy with.