My Three Kings

There are, essentially, three men in my life. With one, I have pledged forever. One is my sparring partner on occasion and best pal at other times. One is finally fading at age 89. They all have my heart eternally. Today, I am hitting the pause button to give thanks for these three kings in my life; husband, brother and father. Rediscovering True Love in a Bag of Doritos nEspecially after my mother died, Sunday dinners with my brother Stuart became a bit sacred. As a bachelor with a busy work schedule, Stuart sometimes uses our house like "Mom's place," staring into the fridge, crashing on the couch, doing a bag of laundry. One Sunday, my husband Kelly came back from the store with beer and a bag of Doritos. I joked, "Are we having Doritos for dinner?" "They're for Stuart," he said. (Background; Stuart always comes in the kitchen door, makes a beeline for the cupboard and dives into a bag of chips.) Kelly then opened the bag, put a chip clip on it and placed it on the counter where Stuart would naturally look. "There. This way he won't feel bad ripping into them," Kelly explained. In these six seconds, my love for Kelly swelled. In his simple way, he was showing his love for me, for my brother, for family and home and demonstrating who he is as a human being and how he holds the world. (Once upon a time, this romance ignited with a backrub at Ravinia. Now it's chip bags or watching him volunteer to clean mold off vents in my elderly father's home that really turns me on.) "You have a good heart, Kelly Mayo. That's why I love you," said I, admiring my king. Road Trip nWe were so impressed with ourselves for actually being on the road by 5:37 A.M. My brother slept over at our place and we skipped showers to achieve this miracle. (Bakers are not morning people.) The vessel for our Thanksgiving journey was my dad's elderly Buick with 112,000 miles on it, squeaky windshield wipers and no CD player. We hastily dug up cassettes from a long unopened drawer. Crowded House, Billy Idol and Prince filled the car and our mental movie screens with scenes of early 80's big hair and pre-marriage courtship. The boys (husband and brother) had started out in front so I unabashedly sprawled out in the back seat with a pillow and blanket. I mumbled to Stuart, "Are you OK ... do you want me to drive?" To which he replied, "No, Princess. You just make yourself comfortable." Thus started the ping-pong game of intermittent jabs that began or ended with "Princess" and "Butthead." After decades of personal growth seminars and coaching training on how to effectively communicate in an adult, no-judging manner, there's a sweet comfort in just letting it all hang out. We know we love each other and it's more fun to be petty than mature for a while. I used to berate myself for sliding backwards on these sibling road trips and vowed to be more emotionally correct and spiritually grown up the next time. Now I delight in saying things like, "I called it," with a sheepish grin, as if we were still in second and fifth grade. It's a delicious thing to be that comfortable and stupid with someone. Stuart and I play hooky together, going to breakfast (no makeup or pressed clothing required) and mid-week movie matinees. Once, I had to put a dearly loved pet to sleep and smashed into a car because my attention was elsewhere. Stuart came to my rescue. Uncle Stu baby-sits for the cats and always offers rides to the airport. I am very blessed to have this valiant king, as well. Lasting Beauty nMy father was 47 when I was born, so I probably kept him on his toes in an era when most people his age were all done with babies and decades of more parenting. When I went back home to recover from a surgery in my early twenties, he was a caring nurse to me. Now the roles have switched a bit, as he nears his 90th year. On a recent visit to his nursing home, post-surgery, we played "beauty parlor" each day. I'd wrap him in plastic and towels so I could wet down his hair and style it with a bit of goo. He is such a cutie pie, this guy. We got the giggles and recalled how I used to make him wrap a towel around his neck (like a cape with one of mom's fancy brooches) to play Beauty Pageant with me when I was a little girl. His sweet nature indulged me, then and now. I could still see the pageant crown that I made at age 5 (crafted from cutting into a foil pot pie tin) on my father's head. My beloved king, then and now.n nYou, my wonderful clients and email friends, are admired and appreciated as well. nn