It was a fun filled, busy and joyful occasion filled with lots of activities during the day with  surfing, sailing and  kayaking, and in the evenings at each other’s homes playing charades, board games and reminiscing over old photos of Pop Pop in the army and on his wedding day. Those were the moments when I looked at my girls blending in with their “step” aunts, uncles and cousins, enjoying themselves and feeling included, even though they don’t share the same heritage, history or genealogy. After Sophia and Eva left for the wedding in New Jersey, where I heard reports that they ripped up the dance floor with their East coast cousins, we had one final big party at our house on the last day of the reunion.

I had planned a menu of grilled chicken kabobs, homemade potato salad and coleslaw. It was  a pot luck and everyone brought their contribution. Paul’s older brother decided he wanted the family to take a trip down memory lane and asked his wife to prepare “bun burgers,” a dish their mother made for them as children. It stirred some fond and not so fond memories. (Apparently not everyone liked the bun burgers.) I didn’t quite get the recipe, but I watched them being prepared. Basically, you prepare ground beef like you are making hamburgers. Throw in some spices and some chopped onions, but instead of adding bread crumbs, pick out the bread from the tops of hamburger buns, which leaves a big O, tear it into pieces and add to the mix. The top of the bun is placed on the bottom half of the bun and then on a cookie sheet. Next, scoop up a  generous dollop of hamburger meat and place inside the opening of the top bun. Bake in the oven at 400 degrees and just before they are done, top with strips, in an X shape, of Kraft processed American cheese. Place back in oven until melted.

I have to say they were pretty darn good and could easily be adapted to something healthy and rather gourmet if using, say, ground turkey, whole wheat buns and  perhaps some goat cheese, instead of the fatty beef and fake cheese. The culinary nostalgia didn’t end there. No. There were fish sticks too! You know, the frozen kind that comes in a box with lots of fillers and mystery ingredients. They were a  once-a-week staple in Paul’s family’s house. Paul’s brother felt that no family reunion was complete without fish sticks and bun burgers. As we were standing around the kitchen, noshing on the retro delicacies, he lamented, “Too bad we don’t have fake milk to go with them.” Anyone who grew up in a large, budget stretching family in the 50’s and 60’s would know what fake milk is. I do. My mom used to take powdered milk, mix it with water and add it to the real milk to make it last a little longer. It was gross, but we accepted it because that’s just the way it was.

As Paul’s family reminisced about their childhood memories, I reflected on my own (I’m one of five kids.) and realized that big families are pretty much the same.  It isn’t just the food, the family vacations, the sibling squabbles and competition for the bathroom that they have in common, but rather the inherent bonds, life lessons and experiences that go with the territory. I’ve always said being part of a big family prepares you for life’s greatest challenges: To be able to get along with anyone, to know how to wait your turn, to accept delayed gratification and to tolerate things that can at times be somewhat unpleasant.

My thoughts wandered to the future as I pictured myself at Sophia’s or Eva’s wedding and imagined all the guests who would attend.  There would be my family, Jared’s family and  Paul’s. It would be  a blended family wedding… and one hell of a party.

That was then. This is now, and Paul is sooooo much different. When I’m sick, not only does he act and look concerned, he actually takes care of me.  He cooks dinner. He makes me tea and he will go to the store and buy me soup if I asked him to. What a guy. What a difference. I shouldn’t bash my ex because he was going through his own sexual identity turmoil, but I didn’t know that a the time.

I feel much better today not only because I am tanked up on Sudafed and Tylenol, but because my hubby is in town and I have the comfort of knowing that  when he gets home tonight he will make dinner, clean up the kitchen  and bring me tea.

I really lucked out in the in-law department. They always treated me like a daughter and when Jared and I divorced, my mother-in-law told me, “You’re still one  of us. ” I miss my mother-in-law terribly. She died 10 months after my mother died and I was totally unprepared. She was only 72 and her death was unexpected. I wondered how I would feel walking into her house with her not there. I did not go to her funeral because she died in September just when the kids were starting school, and because of that I never felt like I had closure.

We took the train from Penn Station to Dunellen and Grandpa Tony and Jared’s brother Ken met us at the station. It was a nice surprise to see Ken. He had been waiting for us to arrive. When we got back to the house, Jared’s sister Margie called to say she would be right over. Jared has one sister and four brothers, but only Ken and Margie live nearby. They both stayed late into the evening and we talked for hours. They were very interested in my new life and seemed happy for me. I think they were in some way reassured that Jared and I still have a positive co-parenting relationship. Margie did something very special. She gave each of my girls a pair of my mother-in-law’s earrings. I made a vow to myself to stay in better contact with them in the future. I think they would enjoy receiving photos and letters from the girls.

The next day I took the kids to see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. It was very weird seeing the New York City skyline without the Twin Towers.  We also went to the Liberty Science Center which was a lot of fun. Later in the evening Sophia and I poured through family photo albums. I was very surprised to see that in one of them my father-in-law saved a Christmas card I had sent him the first year Paul and I were married. It was a collage of photos from our wedding. He saved it. I was very touched. Jared and mine’s wedding photo is off the wall, but my wedding photos with Paul were relegated to a book.

I also looked through my mother-in-law’s recipe boxes. I was looking for her famous Spanish crepe recipe which I did not find. I pulled out all of her other specialties and with Tony’s permission, I kept them. They were in her handwriting and that was my way of preserving a part of her.

It is interesting to see how my ex-husband has become my step children’s sort of uncle. He often has  all five kids  at his house, makes them nachos while they watch TV or has Cheryl stay for a sleep over. He takes Cheryl and Eva out to lunch and to the movies.  He’s very kind that way and extremely thoughtful. I know that he turned out to be gay and we got divorced because of it, but I have never regretted marrying him. I have always felt that by doing so, I had married well. (Given the information I had at the time, that is.) Jared’s a good guy, who not only loves his own children, but cares about all children. Our story is one example of how divorce and subsequent remarriage can lead to positive changes that expand children’s lives and expose them to  new and wonderful experiences. Sometimes we make things up as we go, but I feel that we are staying on the right path.

Happy Father’s Day to all you dads and step dads out there.

The CA State’s Supreme Court’s decision yesterday to uphold Proposition 8 was a big disappointment for me and everyone in support of same sex marriage. I felt the same shock and outrage when I heard the verdict in the OJ Simpson murder trial. That was  not a real surprise either, as that was what was predicted, but it was  still a bitter pill to swallow. As we all know, eventually justice was served in that case when the families of Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown were awarded civil damages against Simpson. It was the Goldman’s relentless pursuit of claiming their award that led Simpson to commit armed robbery to supposedly get back property that he says was stolen from him. Simpson was convicted and sentenced to 33 years in prison, which at his age, is the rest of his life. My point in drawing this analogy is to show that what first appears as defeat, can eventually lead to victory. And if Arnold Schwarzenegger can go on the Tonight Show and say  the upholding of Proposition 8  is bullshit, so can I.

This  is what I predict will happen in the case of same sex marriage. Proponents will offer up another ballot initiative legalizing same sex marriage. It will pass and opponents will not be able to go to the State Supreme Court to overturn it using the argument that a ballot initiative is unfair, since yesterday’s decision stated that it is.

I want my readers  to know that  I do not intend for my blog to become a political forum. (I know, too late.)  I have made a concerted effort to never  discuss religion or politics because I feel that those topics can be very divisive and controversial and I don’t want to alienate people. I am here for everyone.  I  don’t care if you are a religious right conservative or a liberal atheist, (not that all liberals are atheists, mind you) the parenting issues we face together as members of blended families are universal and that, in my opinion extends to same sex couples’ families as well. If you are familiar with my story you know that I have a gay ex-husband. Click here and here to learn more. If you don’t agree with me, all I am asking of you is to listen to my story. Cut me some slack. Open your hearts. Open your minds. And let’s all focus on our families. Amen.

As you might imagine, I have had a lot of emails from women from all over the country. They don’t post comments on my blog, but they do write to me. I would never publish their letters and I never discuss what they tell me, even with my husband (who forgets everything I tell him anyway), but I would like to offer to my reading public the gist of  these letters since there is an uncanny similarity to all of them. Here are some of their frequently asked questions:

#1. How did you get over it? How did you get past the pain, humiliation and anger so that you could move on with your life?

This is a biggie. How does anyone get over anything? A failed marriage is a failed marriage and there is no guarantee that I would not have gotten divorced if I had married a straight guy. Still I was pretty pissed when you figure that if I had married a straight guy I might have had a better shot at staying married. I felt like I had no control over the situation, which was frustrating and, oddly, also liberating. It was not my fault. Given the information that was presented to me at the time of my marriage, I felt like I had made a good decision. I was given a free pass.

#2. How did you forgive?

This is kind of tied into the first question, but let me elaborate a bit. I think one of my best character traits (if I may so so myself) and  traits we as a democratic, civilized society can use a little more of, is my compassion, empathy and the ability to see through someone else’s perspective. Intellectually I knew that we live in a society that demonizes homosexuality. Rick Warren, the pastor who said the opening prayer at Obama’s inauguration, has likened homosexuality to bestiality and pedophilia.  It is no wonder gay people feel oppressed, ostracized and the need to closet their sexuality. In that context, I couldn’t blame my gay ex-husband, Jared, for attempting to deny his true sexual identity. It made me more understanding and hence, more forgiving.

#3. What did you tell the kids?

I told them the truth, warts and all. I told them I was sad, but I made it clear to them that even though I was down, I was not out. I firmly believe children take their cues from their parents and if I could recover, they could too.  I explained to them that we had to let Daddy go to be happy, which is the greatest gift anyone can give to anyone. Dad would still be in our lives, he just was not going to live with us anymore. (Although he came over for dinner many times those first few months.) I told them that there is nothing wrong with being gay, but many people do not share our acceptance and openness about it. To this day, the girls are very selective with whom they confide in about their father being gay.

#4. How did you find happiness again?

I found it mostly because I wanted to, but not until I had given myself sufficient time to grieve,which is a very important part of the healing process. When you avoid pain by not processing it, you can not get over it. After an initial scoundrel period in which I rushed into dating in order to fill the void in my life, I eventually realized that I needed time alone in order to come to terms with what I really wanted out of life and to discover what would make me truly happy.

#5. Where did you turn to for support?

My first action, after I poured my heart out to my friends, was to get professional counseling. I made a few inquiries and found a very supportive therapist who had experience in dealing with exactly what I was going through.  In addition, I searched the Internet and found The Straight Spouse Support Network ,founded my Amity Pierce Buxton, whose husband came out in the ’70’s. Amity was sweet enough to email me and I talked on the phone with members from the local chapter. I also read several books that were very helpful and made me realize that I was neither crazy nor alone. Here are a view titles: Pretzel Logic: A Novel , The Other Side of the Closet: The Coming-Out Crisis for Straight Spouses and Families, Revised and Expanded Edition and  My Husband Is Gay: A Woman’s Survival Guide.

It has been more than ten years since Jared, my ex, first confessed to me that he was gay, and quite frankly, I rarely think about it anymore. My days now are filled with loving and enjoying my new husband, our busy lives as a blended family, working on our family business and, now that the kids are older and more independent, fulfilling and pursuing my own dreams.