Fitting and Fitting In

I've been watching one of my grandchildren. Indeed, it's "fitting" to watch one of my grandchildren trying "to fit in." When people, kids or adults, try to do so, they take in the perceived environment whole. 'If you're gonna fit, y'might as well do it right.' Y'know ... the clothes, the shoes, the language, disliking all the right things, too. Funny to watch a clatch of kids sitting in a coffee shop or diner ... part and parcel of the scene is the conforming, the passion to fit in ... and part is an attempt to construct a new family, as the old one is coming apart. For let there be little doubt that, as new families are born, old families deconstruct. Playing in the Last Quarter gives you a perch and a view, while you're going through the same thing as those close to you. If there were siblings or friends and they indulged the typical begats of connection and children and grandchildren -- gay and straight, alike -- by now they're off with their own tribe. M and I have 4 siblings between us. Her Sister still hasn't spawned grandchildren but is busy leading her own near Last Quarter life 300 miles away, while my three sibs all have 5 or 6 grandchildren (does conformity never end?) and call on some schedule ... reach out and touch someone, right! ... from time to time. So, for the Last Quarter, we review what's happened and hold onto to some friends. A person on a listserv with me has been widowed for many years (like my older Sister, only younger) and one can hear the pain and, betimes, the bitterness in her writing. Certainly, I'd be afraid to reach out to her ... Older people can still bite pretty hard which can raise one's own 'inner alienated Soul' from slumber. Yesterday, I had time to reflect on the parts of me that have always felt different. I think the reviewing began when our youngest grandchild visited with her Dad for a couple of hours. I'm really quite fortunate, to my way of thinking, to remain married after 47 years and to have 4/6 grandspawn in the area. Indeed, a grand-dog was visiting as her family was off for the weekend visiting friends. This youngest grand-daughter (5 girls and a 12 year old boy call me Grandpa, like the other 5,and to be perfectly frank, the grand-pets, too), they all ... have preferences for M ... M is adored by her trib)e. I have always found it hard to move in the direction of apparent conformity, though no day, pretty much, passes without a double windsor knot in a tie and a sweater vest that makes me a dead ringer for a Mr. Rogers dopplegang-lookalike; I could do a cover-band and lead off with "Won't you be my Neighbor" ... might have to doff a beret that has accompanied me since the 1950's, unless I wanna do Groucho, too. Any case, I spent the evening thinking about my differences. While various doctoring letters grace the end of my name, I never felt the need nor did I act on the wish to secure the conforming trappings implicit to high school or college graduation. I have close contact with one of my graduate school professors ... occasional contact with another ... and no one from professional school or post professional training. I do communicate 4 or 5 times a year with someone I went to high school with ... haven't seen him in about 50 years ... assume he's still a warm and extremely religious round guy ... now clergyman ... living 6,000 miles away. "God bless the e-mail and the-Google, as M kiddingly references our grandparents referencing a car as "the machine." Maybe, I'll write more, tomorrow, about what, I suspect, is a part of us all ... the alienated part. For now, I think I'll go feel it some more.