The DHX: The Doughtie Houses Exchange » Holidays

The Cinemascope Version

Kathy — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 05:29:20 +0000

I was selling my book at the LA Times Festival of Books today, when I heard a woman’s voice say “Don’t I know you?” After about five minutes of cross-referencing, we figured out that we had shared a cabin at a church camp about 12 years ago, had had Thanksgiving together at my old house once, and had sworn never to lose touch. Which of course we had.

In the last twelve years or so, she has triumphed over two bouts of cancer and raised a spectacularly talented and beautiful Juilliard-bound daughter (who came by the booth and graciously asserted that she remembered me.)

In the last twelve years or so, I have disbanded my marriage, written a book, watched my own children grow up in an equally spectacular manner, and have done all the rest of the things one does when one is living life fully.

What was interesting about meeting up with her was that she was one of the first people I’ve talked to in years who didn’t know about the divorce. When I told her about it, she gasped and expressed concern and sadness. I felt instantly sorry that I had mentioned it so casually, but then realized how very far away from the whole “tragedy” aspect of it I have moved.

I hastened to assure her that it was all fine. I pitched her the book (of course), saying the long version of the story was in there. Then I told her about Jill and about this blog. I told her I had just started a really promising new relationship with a guy I’m crazy about. And I told her about my blossoming friendship with the mother of my new guy’s son. Even though I’m not nearly yet in the role of step mom, I now have a biological mom in my own life to be grateful for and to get to know.

In my fantasies I see my fella, his ex, their son, and the five of us Doughties all eating together at Thanksgiving, pouring wine for each other and embarrassing the boys with revealing family histories. Whether that cinemascope version of the extended family actually comes to pass or not, the fact remains that this has turned into a big rollicking happy fun family.

As I listened to my words I realized that I was being absolutely and completely sincere, almost like I was proselytizing divorce. I couldn’t imagine, actually, being happier in any way (well, in any way that still includes having a work a day job). I felt incredibly guilty as well, especially when she mentioned that she had raised her daughter all by herself. And here I was with all these extra adults supporting and advocating my kids!

Now… as the child of parents who were married eight times between the two of them, I have no difficulty remembering that divorce is always a wrenching, uncomfortable, psychologically disturbing event. In no way do I want to present it as anything other than a difficult and painful transition.

And yet… it can be alchemized. You can take all the messiness and ugliness and, with compassion and mindfulness and LOTS of luck, and move it into something else. It takes time — there is no substitution for the passage of time. And it takes a huge quantity of humor. And I cannot emphasize the consciousness part of it enough.

But I believe it can be done. And it should be done. Because otherwise we’ve capitulated to the dark side and the ugly side and agreed that that’s how life is and always will remain. And what a drag that would be.

Kumbaya: Deleted scenes

Jill — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 15:40:37 +0000

By Jill Davis Doughtie

We’re plotting something.

I told you we were bad women.

Yep.

(Photos by G.) (But we’re not flipping him off. We’re just being Kumbaya rebels.)

Kumbaya: The extended version

Jill — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 22:25:08 +0000

By Jill Davis Doughtie

Photos by G.

Kumbaya: The making of

Jill — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 04:51:53 +0000

By Jill Davis Doughtie

Here we are prepping for our singing-Kumbaya-while-braiding-each-other’s-hair photo shoot.

Actually, we were preparing for a cat’s cradle photoshoot — G’s mom is an artist, and she wanted a few pictures of us playing cat’s cradle together to possibly use for a painting she was thinking about. After the cat’s cradle pictures, we took the singing barefoot and braiding each other’s hair pictures that I’d been fantasizing about.

Photos by G.

Kumbaya

Jill — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 16:33:12 +0000

By Jill Davis Doughtie

Photo by G.

See, we really do sit around braiding each other’s hair and singing Kumbaya. It’s challenging with those flowers in our teeth, but we wouldn’t let a little thing like that stop us.

Actually we had relatives and guests who were willing to help us live out our fantasy of a Kumbaya hair braiding photoshoot. We took a lot of pictures.

Please ignore the pile of compost behind us.

Happy day after Easter!