Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Midlife Cabernet: When Family Birthdays Don’t Matter

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Today is my brother’s birthday. I haven’t seen him in 17 years so we probably won’t be sharing cake and ice cream.

There are brothers and sisters who lovingly support each other and celebrate special occasions together. I’m not in that category. I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s too late to change anything. Sometimes it’s best to dump the painful past into the dark lagoon of sad memories and start over with eager optimism for the present and future.

My brother, a lawyer, sued me several years ago but I fought back. He didn’t show up in court for the trial but his attorney did, and I testified with spirit and conviction. I won the lawsuit and lost a brother.

Well-intentioned people say to forgive, reach out, and make amends, and occasionally I feel the pressure to make peace. Without going into the pathetic details, I’ll just say that I can’t do that. It’s easier – and a lot more fun – to write books, give speeches, play with my grandkids, and live an abundant life with my husband. I did send my brother a Christmas card last month, so I’ve done my part for the year.

The irony of the situation is that if he could see my family now, he would realize the example of how our dysfunctional childhood should have been. I wish he could see how my children have grown into splendid young adults, but he chose to miss their high school graduations, their weddings, and the arrivals of their delightful children. I also wish he would meet my husband and be interested in what I’ve done and experienced since 1997. I think I would make a good sister.

But, I would be okay with never seeing him again if he would visit our elderly mother and assist with her care. He has seen her only twice for a few minutes in the past 15 years. She now suffers from dementia and probably wouldn’t recognize him. Maybe he’ll think about that today, on his birthday.

This week our family will celebrate the 4th birthday of my precious granddaughter. There will be presents, cake, and laughter. And I’ll watch with gratitude as my grown son and daughter prove that a brother and sister can love each other. I also know if one threatened to sue the other, there would be an immediate meeting that included beer, hugs, and laughter.

Midlife Cabernet: When it’s Time to Divorce the Siblings

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I’m officially announcing my intention to divorce my siblings and take applications for a new sister and/or brother. There is no monetary value to this arrangement but the reward will be in the celebration of a festive and positive relationship with me as a sister. Such a deal!

I made this decision last week after enjoying yet another birthday without hearing from either of my two brothers. No card. No phone call. Not even a pre-designed, automatic email. Time is wasting because I’ve had more birthdays that I’ll have again. It would be nice to pretend that there is a sibling who actually gives a damn. And I can promise clever birthday cards, jolly songs, and good wine in return.

Full disclosure: The younger brother called the day after my birthday and left a short voice mail. And I haven’t seen or heard from the scoundrel older brother in 15 years so I’m not really surprised at the continued neglect. I would like them to know, however, that I help take care of their invalid mother and she would love to hear from them sometime, too.

My brothers and I were raised to compete, work hard, and die without hugs or humor. I opted out of that failed formula and chose to be totally nuts about loving and laughing. Not wanting to repeat my own family dysfunction, I adamantly made it a priority to raise my children to truly love each other, and I’m profoundly grateful that they do. I’m sorry their uncles don’t know them. One of my brothers hasn’t even met my children’s children or my husband. What a profound loss for these hapless brothers.

So, beginning immediately, I am declaring my availability for sisterhood. Obviously, I’m not very good at it but I’m willing to learn. The only requirements are to exchange annual birthday cards and get together every once in awhile for laughs and libations. To proclaim the sibling designation, I’ll design a plaque with the appropriate golf-leaf certificate and exchange a good bottle of Cabernet.

Finally, to my twin sister who died before we were born: I still miss you. We could have enjoyed some crazy fun together. I’ll never forget what should have been your birthday.

Today’s blog was fueled by a 2011 McKenna Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa, California. We served it at my birthday party, and there was abundant laughter, dancing, and celebration with true friends.

Midlife Cabernet: Bittersweet Bites from Decades of Dining

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Thanksgiving of 1970 brought considerable consternation to the 30 relatives assembled at my parent’s house when my older brother came home from Harvard and bravely announced his liberal political views. My father reacted as if his firstborn child had betrayed the family honor and was responsible for the pending destruction of society. The women huddled in the kitchen until my brother apologized and then they emerged with trays of gooey desserts. I learned from this experience to keep quiet and eat pie.

The following day, after all the womenfolk had washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen, we sat at the dining table to finish the leftovers. My brother mentioned that he had sent a letter to the editor of the Twin Falls newspaper in support of Democratic Senator Frank Church. My father pounded his fist on the table and announced that there would be no more money for college. My brother retracted the letter. I learned from this experience to earn scholarships to an inexpensive, in-state university.

My mother used the same fist-smeared dining table for more than 40 years. It was a round Cushman table that despite all her handmade coverings and best dishes could never create the Norman Rockwell images she craved. My brothers and I learned early to avoid any provocative conversation that could upset our father. I once ate six pork chops just so I wouldn’t need to talk with anyone. My questions, concerns, good news, and typical teenage angst were smothered in mounds of mediocre mashed potatoes.

In my opinion, the dining table should be the foundation of the home. In a perfect world, it’s where the family gathers to break bread, play board games, and read the newspaper. It’s natural to want what was lacking, and I made it an important goal to have a happy family gathered around the table. For most of my adult life, that wish came true as my children grew up and we shared Thanksgiving feasts around a table laden with delicious choices amidst the sounds of laughter. For that, I am profoundly grateful.

This week 16 family members gathered around our dining room table, and I gazed at each one with gratitude. Hours later, after the satiated guests had gone home, I reflected on the hidden blessings of life. Because of past physical and emotional pain, I can truly appreciate the present freedom and joy. I realize that early trauma was the motivational catalyst I needed to survive. When crap was dumped in my way, I pulled on my boots and climbed over it.

My father died 24 years ago and the fractured family broke apart. But his success in business allowed me the opportunity to start my own business and buy a good dining table. I wish he could have joined us this week. We would discuss questions, concerns, good news, and typical parental angst. I’ve learned from this experience that gratitude mixed with forgiveness taste sweet.

Today’s blog is fueled by a 2011 Barbera from Jacuzzi Family Vineyard in Sonoma, California. This inviting wine bursts with vibrant flavors with a hint of vanilla. Share a few glasses with a favorite friend and gratefully celebrate the abundance of today.