My Wonderful Family

 

OK. In case you didn’t know already, I’ll tell you. My sons are so, so fucking great. They are smart and kind, funny, talented, tender, thoughtful. I love spending time with any of them, and having them all together–which, since they have grown and moved away, is a Christmas time-only experience–is amazing. Not always easy, mind you; not uneventful. But amazing. Discussions about football or politics or, well, anything, really, can (and have) become loud, angry philosophical debates as my ultra-verbal sons weigh in passionately (and stubbornly?) for their position; evenings can (and have) turned sour as one or the other of us unwittingly tapped into tender emotional territory–or perceived that his emotional territory had been invaded. But the amazing always kicks in afterward. Laughter returns. Love prevails.

So, when the prospect of a full-family June gathering was floated, I was thrilled. Neal and Brendan took vacation days, I made reservations at the Burbank airport Marriott, and we all flew to LA to join Colin (and Leigha) for five days of awesome. From the ethereal beauty of Bach’s B Minor Mass with the Los Angeles Master Chorale in the Disney Concert Hall to the incredible tackiness of the “shoppers” at the strip mall on Vermont and Hollywood Blvd (one of whom rode his motorcycle straight into the grocery store), Los Angeles delivered.





We ate (Salazar and the Sidewalk Grill; Shinsengumi and Yamashiro; The Smoke House and Grand Central Market), and walked and sang and talked and listened and laughed and, yes, argued, and it was great. Just getting to spend some of my allotted two billion heartbeats with my sons (AND my pretend daughter!) was the best of all.

Christmas is not too far away, but I hope we’ll be finding reasons (concerts? golf dates? weddings?) to bring the McCormick clan together much more often.









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