The Gift

As anyone who knows me knows, my family growing up was a model of stability and happiness. My parents have an incredible relationship and were always happy together (and they still are). And they were amazing with my brothers and me. They treated us with kindness and respect, were reasonable and fair in administering discipline, were always involved in our lives, and generally made us feel secure and loved. Mine was the house that other friends tended to gravitate towards, because my parents were so cool. I had plenty of friends that didn't get along with their parents very well, and frequently I would come home late from after-school activities and find a friend of mine in the kitchen helping my mom with dinner. Even as an adult, I have friends that joke about trying to get adopted by my parents so they can bask in the warmth of the family sun. My mother's standard line is that any and all are welcome, as long as she doesn't have to pay for any more weddings or college educations.

On the other hand, Jason's upbringing wasn't the greatest, to say the least. His parents split up when he was about 4 months old, and he had a horribly abusive stepfather that he lived with for a long time and then a less abusive but not very nice stepmother, and finally he said, "fuck this" and left home when he was about 15. He was convinced that he would never get married or have children, and didn't really see any benefit to either situation.

Before we got engaged, we split up for a time because Jason freaked out about marriage and children. He was convinced that he would be a horrible father and revert to the tactics that were employed on him, and that he didn't know how to be part of a family. He felt that if we stayed together, he would ruin my life.

I was mindful of the statistics showing that people who are abused tend to be abusers, but having seen how Jason escaped his predicament, having observed him with my nieces and with the children of our friends, and knowing that his upbringing left him with a massive fear of confrontation (rather than an inclination to seek it out), I just knew in my gut that he would be fine. I told him that being aware of his fears was huge, and that if at any time he felt like he was having trouble, we would deal with it. Whatever he needed from me -- going to therapy, seeking any kind of help -- I was willing to do.

Having Zeke has been a revelation for him. He didn't think he would feel the intense feelings of love and happiness that come with having a child, but he has. And it has made him feel a security, a sense of comfort and love and emotional well-being, from being part of a family -- a feeling that I don't think he's ever experienced or that he ever thought he would be able to enjoy. And of course, he is an amazing father. Zeke adores him and lights up whenever he sees his daddy. Jason is gentle and patient and playful and sweet. I think his skills as a parent have surprised him as well.

Yesterday we were driving home from picking Zeke up at school, and I was talking to Zeke and telling him how much his daddy and I love him. Jason said, "you've made us a family, little man. It's great to be part of a family."

I just about plotzed.

I know how to do happy families. I've done it my whole life, and it comes easily. This family that we've created is miraculous in its own right. But to be able to contribute to someone else experiencing this feeling of love and security for the first time -- it's the greatest thing I could bestow on my husband, or that he could bestow on me.