How Things Change in New Beginnings

I drove my dad to St. Simons last weekend for my brother’s engagement celebration. I was expecting my sister and her husband to be there (and possibly my niece and nephew), but they couldn’t attend. My sister’s absence was due to her starting her new job in real estate, an industry in which summer is the busy season. Consequently, the only attendees were my brother, his fiancé, my dad, and myself.

I was expecting things to be a awkward. I thought they were, but that may have been my own perception as social engagements are generally uncomfortable for me no matter what. We just sort of ignored the 600 pound gorilla in the room. I may have seemed a little bit icy, but as I said two sentences ago, social functions aren’t my cup of tea.

My brother is still his charismatic self. He has his gift of gab, an ability to tell stories that sucks people in. He’s changed in weird ways, though. For starters, he’s gotten really fat. Well, I don’t know if that’s the correct term. Let me put it another way. He’s forged for himself a giant beer gut. I suppose that shouldn’t be so surprising considering how much he drank during and after college. Nonetheless, seeing the physically imposing bully from my childhood in his current physical condition was jarring. It’s like our roles have reversed. The weak son grew up to be the strong son, and the strong son deteriorated into the weak one. After everything that occurred between us, I was more prepared to resent him than feel sorry for him. Experiencing that latter emotion caught me off guard.

He’s also become…domesticated. For many years, my brother was this guy who wanted…I don’t even know what he wanted. He didn’t want to be tied to anyone or anything. He definitely didn’t want to be what he is, a soon to be married guy who binge watches Game of Thrones and plays Wii bowling with his girlfriend. If it weren’t such a perverse show, he’s sound like someone I got along with. Side note: I don’t fault people for watching GoT, but I can’t bring myself to watch a woman get raped. Even if the incident is fictional and told within a compelling story, the whole idea just makes my stomach turn.

His fiancé was pleasant. She’s a therapist, and I kind of got a feeling she was trying to therapize (I hope that’s a word) me throughout the trip. She definitely has that voice and demeanor. She had a vibe that when she asked me innocuous questions, generic questions you ask upon meeting someone, every pause or inflection or breath in my response was analyzed and evaluated. She was nice enough, though. I could certainly do worse for a sister-in-law.

Also, almost in response to my previous entry, the universe saw fit to offer me a bit of discouragement. In the church I grew up in, I had a friend who could best be described as a mentor. His name is Chris, and he is about 10 years my senior. He was one of the few individuals I kept in contact with over the years, granted that contact became less and less regular over the years. I had last visited him several years ago, and I had last spoke with him just two years ago. I found out last week that he and his wife divorced. I didn’t speak with him, but when I looked at his Face Book profile, I noticed that he and his wife no longer live in the same town. Furthermore, his wife wasn’t listed as a mutual friend. Finally, none of his or his wife’s recent pictures feature the other person. Finally, finally, neither of them provide any information in their relationship section of their profiles.

I’m really disturbed by their divorce. They were one of those couples that consciously and purposefully did things to make their marriage stronger, divorce-proof in a manner of speaking. I doubt infidelity was what broke them a part. Chris dropped out of college when he and his wife decided to get married. He supported his wife afterwards with various jobs. First, he was a staffing agency recruiter, then he worked as an accountant, then a financial director for his church, then back to an accountant, and finally he left accounting to manage a Chick-fil-a. Between juggling work, marriage, and parenting the two kids he eventually had, he never found the time and energy to finish his degree and break through that corporate ceiling to provide the kind of lifestyle he would have liked to for his family. I imagine the job stress eventually bled into his marriage life, which led to fighting, which led to divorce.

Certainly, comparing his situation to mine isn’t fair. He got married without really being prepared, and compared to almost all of the married people I know, I’m over prepared. Still, I came away feeling like hoping for a spouse is ultimately ordained to blow up in my face. If he couldn’t make it work, what chance do I have? Yeah, I’m being paranoid, I know.

Perhaps, none of this is a big deal. Maybe, I’ll just save for another 10 years, retire early, then spend the rest of my life working out, reading, cooking, and eating. Worse fates are out there.