Sorority Sister and her love are in town seeking respite from the tundra. A must when she’s in town is making the rounds, including the YaYas, Contractor Girl and The Goddess amongst others. She has adopted my pals as her own.
My little groups orbit round each other and often spend time together. When they join, frivolity is guaranteed. Sorority Sister will not allow FOMO so off we go.
Last night we gather but it’s a secret where and with whom as bad news is involved. When it comes to secrets I cannot keep good news to myself. I will tell everyone so don’t tell me. I can carry bad news to the grave. Except I’ll tell the Dolls. I just won’t tell them who. This time it involves divorce.
A friend tells us his wife is divorcing him. However we might feel about a couple or the individuals that make up the duo, the dissolution of a marriage is sad. He seems a little forlorn but resigned. We try to buoy him and by the time we leave conversation steers toward who will help find him a new friend. And, of course, who gets to decorate his new house. Dibs.
The news flashes thoughts of The Norwegian. Whether a marriage is lost to death, divorce or neglect, it strikes at the chords of the heart. It stirs anxiety, questions value and ponders self worth. However, there is joy to be found in being alone even when it is foisted upon us. It may not be what we planned, but it can be a chance to make new plans.
“This could be your time,” I say. Indeed it could, he nods. And then he smiles.
“I started the week with news of a divorce and ended the week with the birth of a grandchild,” he says. He adds that this may indeed be his time. Time with his precious new little family member.
The night before found him at his daughter’s side from about seven until three in the morning when his grandson joined the fray. A photo of him smiling with precious baby cargo is enchanting. Not only does life go on after the bad stuff, most of the time its gifts are breathtaking. Happy Grandpa Day my friend.
He jokes, “All this–someday I may make The Diaries.” Yes, he’s amongst my secret male readers. You know the ones who whisper, “I read the blog. I know it’s for girls but I read it.” They say it as if it’s a porn admission.
Welcome to the club Grandpa. You are officially a Duchess Doll.