51

My mom turned 51 yesterday...

In the last few weeks she's remarried, moved from her 4-bedroom house in rural NJ to a 1.5 bedroom house on a lake in NJ, and begun a steady descent into retirement. It's been an eventful year for her--wish I could say the same.

My whole life it's been my mom and I; but now she has a husband. A man I will never refer to as Dad or even introduce as my stepdad--this much I know for sure. I have nothing against the guy. He's your typical pot-bellied, middle-aged, former all-American athelete but he's Jewish--by birth if not by choice. They met at a singles ministry at church so he's clearly a convert which is very much to my mother's liking.

I was surprised by the lack of resistance my grandparents exercised on this matter. I suppose in some respects they are glad. My mother is remarried at 51. Her new husband has no children of his own. He is a home-owner and he's self-employed. He's a Christian. Really, what else is there?

I can't help but wish things had worked out with her last boyfriend--a nice, Indian man in good health and a father of two grown daughters. He'd been a part of my life more than any other man. To this day, when I hear the song, "Butterfly Kisses" by Bob Carlisle it's his face that comes to my mind. Alas, it was not to be and my mother is Mrs. Winter.