I faced what many divorcees have-an exodus of all those ex-family members that I had spent my entire live loving and tending. It happened suddenly. One night the New York Police came to our house for a DOMESTIC INCIDENT (no-he did NOT hit me but there was a whole lot of screaming and threatening goin’ on-Anabelle and I had spent some hours laying down in a cold bank vestibule because we did NOT have any money to get home from Hebrew School). Well, my best friend, Carey, happened to call and got involved in the melee and soon enough we were on conference call with my mother, Jojo, and his momma, Mimi. When my Mother implored his to intervene with her son who may have had a few cocktails with his sister while we cooled our tushes on the bank linoleum, Mimi did not want to get involved and years later I guess I understand but I am harshly critical of my own child and do not have my childs-perfect-it is, I think Mimi may suffer from a bit of that Particular malaise. No kidding when she knew so little about him-he masked everything so well-twenty plus years of hard core cigarette smoking and he would still drive home stopping at the last exit to gargle with mouthwash douse himself in cologne and pop in a piece of gum. Smelling like a Dakor salesman at Saks  he wafted in in a cloud of aroma-none of it smacking of nicotine. No, I was the resident smoker and the one of the lives of the party-the others being the sisters and nieces. Not a one of us wasn’t gregarious and extroverted-we were a squadron of cheerleaders looking for a team and we found it -The Home Team-OUR TEAM. I pulled as hard for us as anyone! I adored Mimi and still do-Te reason this topic comes u now-is that we have just celebrated my daughters Bat Mitzvah in November and it was the first time most (99%) of us had seen or spoken to one another-AWKWARD? No not for me. But I did think then as I was surrounded n the dance floor with some of my favorite folks-all of whom proclaimed their love for me-their missing me and all of our time together. And I’m talking some Hard Time- 25 years of nieces and nephews and cousins and cousins of cousins of cousins who lived with us in Atlanta or New York or stayed with us or needed help with a resume or a job or a boyfriend. Weeks every years spent together for every holiday, high holy day and even the most far-flung wedding or bat mitzvah. My own family of two brothers and 45 first cousins we barely saw-They just didn’t merit the money for extra visits and vacations. There was 2 days at Christmas and a couple of hours at Thanksgiving –OK  a couple of days  but every visit was brevity itself with my ex scowling and unhappy-but at least blissfully smoking as the whole family clambered for the ciggies-even the Doctors in the family. So, I was glad to see them all again and though my nieces Julie and Brook had stayed in touch. It was 2 down from about 50 and it hurt. I know of other divorcees where the lost spouse is still a part of family life-even if the bitter spouse-the one with blood ties has to be restrained in a  concrete cell but that didn’t happen to me and it didn’t happen to a lot of others. We mourned the lost of that missing family-aching like a phantom limb and thought of that vast time as wasted. And too often we are the ones who were wronged-lost our homes, our jobs or in my case MY BUSINESS and MY MONEY and MY HOME. But still tey stood on idly watching or at least knowing that I and my child lived barely above the poverty line-yes, a year before I had a full page story in town and country and the year before 5 pages in Southern Accents and now I went to the store with my ten year old who looked up in innocence and asked, Mommy , can we afford the good cheese?” And most times we could not because the market for a designer of alligator bags that fetch $10,000 is limited to about 5 companies-ALL conveniently located in Europe-so I did not have a skill set that would keep me employed and scrambled for work and opened an antiques store in Birmingham with my brother (another casualty of my ex-having “lost” shares “promised” to him with a hale and hearty “Don’t worry I am taking care of you.” So, brother Billy who had once lost a fiancée when our company couldn’t pay his salary and he had to move into our house in Atlanta and was also thrust dead center in the whole extended family clan and loved them too….what was not to love? They were fun and in the case of my sister-in-laws and my Mother-in-law damn near perfect! Angels!

So, at the Bat Mitzvah with my daughter telling me I was the best Jewish Mother alive (and I am Catholic) and all of my missing family holding my hands as we danced the horah- I was happy. I was home-only for those few hours but HOME.