Being older and semi-retired has its perks. That was obvious when on a beautiful spring day recently, I decided, on a whim, to visit the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. I was primarily motivated by the exhibit "More Real: Art in the Age of ‘Truthiness,'" but in my random wandering through this oasis of aesthetics, I eventually ended up mesmerized by the “period” rooms that grace the museum.
I couldn’t help but wonder whether future rooms of this sort and its artifacts will be populated with the associated holographic families that are now only possible in the realm of the imagination. That got me thinking about friends, their families and the meticulous crafting that goes into the pursuit of their ideal families. Can a family be an example of “living art?”
One such family that comes to mind on this Father’s Day has as its patriarch a good friend of mine who, having been dealt almost every possible blow life has to offer, has parried each thrust away from his place of vulnerability and used it to advantage to create a master work of living art — his family.
I’ve noticed that in facing each new challenge, he chooses not the direct karate-like style of defense, but rather employs a subtle response more typical of the aikido school of martial arts. He seems to have mastered “the way of the harmonious spirit” and in doing so, embodying aikido founder Morihei Ueshiba’s goal of creating an “art that practitioners could use to defend themselves while also protecting their attacker from injury.”
The vision and the reality
Yes, like so many of us, he too had a youthful vision of the “perfect” family, a partner, a couple of kids, a nice home, grandchildren ... the accoutrements of the idealized familial paradigm. But, also like so many of us, he was faced with a difficult divorce, custody issues, ex-spouses, step-children, and the usual panoply of complications. Instead of seeing these issues as crises, he deftly, and in my opinion, vigorously worked to modify (and improve) his idealized vision of the perfect family.
When his wife became his ex-wife, he labored tirelessly and successfully to make her a wonderful friend. His ex-wife and second wife (who also works doggedly toward this vision) recently went on a trip to the West Coast to celebrate one of the children’s successes. In my interactions with the grown children, I have found that they subscribe to the unconventional belief that the divorce was an additive experience, one in which their ever-growing, transformed family was viewed exponentially as a resource.
Recently, he and I inserted ourselves into a wonderful example of Minnesota’s brand of the perfect Norman Rockwell scene: a warm spring night at Target Field with the Minneapolis skyline in the distance, the din of vendors and the roar of the excited fans in the background. I asked him how his day had gone and he told me that earlier he had taken his wife’s ex-husband to get his haircut.
Faced a choice
Many years ago it became obvious that his second wife wasn’t entering the new marriage exactly baggage-free and that she, a woman infused with altruism, could not abandon her mentally and physically ill ex-husband. He faced a choice: assert himself and in doing so, test the limits of power in his marriage or (taking the proverbial road less traveled) to validate his wife’s need to care for her ex-husband and to acknowledge and accept and even re-define that need as a strength of hers and of the marriage. He chose the latter and in doing so has come to consider this man (the ex-husband and father of his step-child) as an integral part of the family.
His family events are veritable palettes of inclusivity that include ex-spouses, children, step-children, grandkids, grandparents that seem to push the boundaries of a traditional family paradigm. No, they don’t always get along, but, more important, they do always come back, and in doing so, demonstrate to themselves and others who have the privilege of witnessing this phenomenon that the benefits of flexibility, forbearance and the outright shunning of societal norms can add tremendous value to their lives.
Sure, this challenges the traditional model of the post-divorce family. Italian artist Michelangelo Pistoletto stated that, “Above all, artists must not be only in art galleries or museums — they must be present in all possible activities. The artist must be the sponsor of thought in whatever endeavor people take on, at every level.”
Happy Father’s Day, my friend, and thank you for offering the world this stunning example of living art.
Rod Martel is a licensed psychologist and retired educator.
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