I Scream, You Scream

Stuffed to the point of bursting with overpriced ice cream, we get a sundae to go for my son and head for home for our "return to Mom's house" ritual.

At some point during the weekend my children return joyfully, exuberantly, thankfully to me, we make sure to partake in a number of rituals that reassure everyone that life has not changed that dramatically in the week we were apart.

One of the rituals meant for all of us to enjoy is the weekly viewing of the show Glee - which I have set my TV to record no matter when it plays. Tonight, we are re-watching the season finale.

Have you seen it? It is the blisteringly funny, clever, quirky, wildly entertaining story of a high school glee club, brimming with talented "students" who are surrounded by teachers and family members who are each colorful, and quirky, and a little crazy, quite hilarious, and surprisingly genuine - all of them - in some textured, vivid, palpable way that makes them seem relatable and real and oddly familiar. And the singing, which takes place in stage performances, and in stage-musical-type interludes, is extremely entertaining. We all love it for what I am sure are very different reasons.

I could just FF through the recorded commercials but I don’t. (They can put a man on the moon but the TV technology that can search and record a show any time day or night that it is shown on any channel whether or not the TV is on, can not program itself to skip over the overly loud sales announcement for the little gizmo that turns any phone into some kind of homing device?) But I allow the kids the time during the commercials to get into their PJ's or refill their glasses or get the papers I need to sign from their backpacks. And my mind is wandering. (I’ve muted the shouting enthusiastic endorser for the phone thing) I am reflecting on having come full circle…from the division of the wedding snub…to the shouting match…to the Sandy offense…to being personally invited to Endora’s house for a family event. It is truly remarkable how it has all played out. The bizarrely awkward chasm that had formed closed nearly completely. Who would have thought it would go this way at the end? Dad must have called in a lot of markers on this one.

The show is back on – the kids have returned to their spots on the sofa – she sitting to my right, hooked in my arm with her legs swung over my own, and he on my left, leaning into me (and every so often poking her foot with his just because he can and he knows it will annoy her) and the Glee kids have gathered to pay tribute to their teacher – because they’ve been told that their club will be disbanded because they failed to win or place at competition.

And there they are – the violins. My favorite TV kids are gathered on stage singing To Sir With Love. It is spectacular. I am trying very hard to conceal from the kiddos that tears have formed in my eyes and have begun streaming down my face.

And as if that weren’t sign enough that Dad was at hand, the story line in the show turns so that the Glee Club does not have to disband, and now the teacher wants to pay tribute to the kids in return for their lovely tribute to him.

Almost as though Dad wanted to make it perfectly clear, that after all my looking and reflecting and wondering about where he might be working his magic, that I’d been right about what I determined to have been the work he had done, the teacher, unbelievably, removes a ukulele from its case, and begins to sing the very song J. and I had made Our Song, the song we’d decided would be our wedding song. Someday. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1bFr2SWP1I)

My daughter recognizes the song instantly and looks up at me. She sees my tears, but is not concerned. It has all started to make sense to her too.