The Gazebo

Today was the third lovely day we've had in a row. Temperatures in the 50's-- in February!! We've been getting outside as much as possible, and today was no exception. We went to play over at Meadowood park, which has a lot of nice open space. The kids got out a lot of energy, and bringing bubbles sure helped to find a lot of playmates in an instant. (As one dad put it, "I think you just sent out the Universal Kid Signal with all those bubbles, there!")

On our way home, we passed a lot of large, expensive homes. I usually crease my brows in confusion at why such large houses even exist - they seem like such a waste to me, especially in this economy. But they can be nice to look at, I won't deny that. One in particular had a gazebo attached to a wrap-around porch.

In the instant I saw that gazebo, my brain went into overdrive, flitting through a lot of thoughts in the matter of about two seconds, maybe less. My very first impression was imagining a young couple standing beneath it, in a very innocent and romantic way. Smiling to each other, maybe holding hands or enjoying a cozy embrace. I smiled to myself, with such a picture in my head, thinking about how it feels to be newly in love. The next instant, I imagined being the mom of that young couple, as if it was my house, and perhaps the imaginary girl under that gazebo was my own daughter with one of her first loves. And then the very instant after that thought, I imagined two reactions to that scenario: One, I'm skeptical, judgmental, and not very willing to allow her and her boyfriend their own private space in that moment. I'm not overly kind or particularly happy about the pairing, and it shows on my face and in my voice in the way I react to them, as well as how I talk about it with my husband. Reaction Two, I'm happy. Simply happy. I see my grown teenage daughter smiling, see the twinkle in her eyes, and enjoying the gentle, innocent touches from her boyfriend. And I react by smiling, truly happy that she is happy and having this experience in her life, despite any misgivings I may have about the particular (imaginary) boy that she's in love with. I trust her, I love her, and I want the best for her.

Remember, those thoughts happened in such a rush that it took maybe two seconds, tops. The time it took to see the gazebo attached to the house, and to drive just past it so it wasn't in my line of sight anymore. And I went from smiling, thinking about the romance, to my face completely dropping as I realized in a sort of epiphany moment that those two reactions I pictured in my mind represented a very real choice lying ahead of me in my life. I suddenly wondered if those seemingly random thoughts weren't put there by a Higher Power. And I wondered to myself, will I remember this choice when my daughter is a teenager? Will I remember it now?? Can I make the conscious choice to choose the happier reaction to my children's situations, over the choice to be more grumpy and cynical, refusing to allow myself and possibly my children to feel joy in their experience, instead distrusting their judgment and dismissing the validity of their feelings?


Of course I hope I won't have to think about it for at least 10 or 12 more years.... But the act of envisioning this imaginary scene seemed to make a very clear-cut choice, and acutely simplified the feelings each of us (mother and child) could experience in either scenario. I hope I make the happy choice. I hope I don't try to control their choices, but instead create an environment where they would feel comfortable, and happy, inviting their significant other to our home and spending one-on-one time near me, instead of away from me... perhaps even under a gazebo. And I would smile, and remember what it was like to fall in love, happy that my child was creating her or his own memories in that moment.