Bluer Than Blue

I'm the kind of person who has dedicated songs to most of the major events in my life. I have named all of my daughters after favorite songs. So when I married my husband, I was eager to commemorate my new relationship with my stepson with a carefully selected anthem. He was thirteen and completely uninterested in sharing a special song with his "stepmonster". He told me flatly, "I already have parents."

Our family grew closer after his sisters were born, but there was still a tension between my stepson and me. The more I craved his acceptance, the more aloof he became. He graduated from high school and moved to the other side of the country. He enrolled in a pricey, private college but he secured scholarships to make the tuition affordable. I suppose what happened next was inevitable. He missed a crucial deadline for securing his scholarships for his Sophmore year and would have to get a good-paying, summer job to make up the difference. Complicating things was his reconstructive knee surgery that would lay him up for several weeks that summer. But as luck would have it, a summer camp less than five miles from our house was looking to hire a cook. My stepson had graduated high school with a vocational certificate in Culinary Arts and he had already worked in a couple of restaurants. I hatched a plan to save the day. I would apply for the cook position with the understanding that my stepson would do as much of the work as possible.

The whole clan was home that summer: my three older daughters from my first marriage (ages 23, 19, 15), my stepson (19), his younger sister (5), the new baby (6 months), my husband and me. We had no idea how the summer was about to unfold. I quickly realized the work was much more involved than I had anticipated. I would need the older girls to watch the younger two while my stepson and I did all the shopping, cooking and cleaning for the camp, including the kitchen, lodge and wash house, for the next ten weeks. I roped in the whole family to help more and more. I even enlisted my husband after he came home from work to mop the 1200 sq. ft. lodge once or twice. Morale dipped after my stepson's surgery and the work load shifted further. My older girls were growing more resentful of doing their brother's work. Preparing and serving three meals a day, seven days a week to 30 campers, in addition to taking care of the rest of my family (including my convalescing stepson) became a heavy burden. I remember one day just collapsing in tears in the living room, ugly-crying that I ruined everyone's summer, because we didn't have time to do anything but work. I felt so guilty because I had ruined the girls' summer and I felt so used by my stepson. Why had I ever thought that I should make the whole family sacrifice so much just for him? Why wasn't I willing to just let him deal with the consequences of his own carelessness?

The worst was yet to come because my stepson had to return to college before camp ended. That meant I was going to have to finish up the season all alone because by this point the older girls had mutinied. I was kicking myself as I got in the car for the short ride to camp the morning after my stepson left for college. I started up the car and the radio started playing "Bluer Than Blue" by Michael Johnson. Now I know I must have heard this song before, it's been around since 1978, but that morning it wasn't familiar to me. I pulled out of the driveway and the first line played, "After you go, I can catch up on my reading."

And I thought, "Yeah. Now he's gone and I just have seven more days of this nightmare."

The second line played, "After you go, I'll have a lot more time for sleeping."

And I thought, "I am so exhausted. I am never putting myself in a position like this again."

The song continued, "And when you're gone looks like things are gonna be a lot easier."

"I'm so glad he's gone and soon my life will be back to normal."

"Life will be a breeze, you know."

"Good riddance!"

"I really should be glad, but I'm bluer that blue, sadder than sad..."

And I just lost it. My heart seemed to burst in my chest with love for him. I would miss him horribly after having spent so much time working together. I realized that I would do it all over again. I would do anything for him because I loved him so much.

I called him later that day to tell him how hearing this song had brought my true feelings to light and that, even though the summer had been so hard, I wouldn't change a thing. He thanked me for all I had done to make it possible for him to stay in school. And just like that, we had our song. Every time I hear it, my mind's eye takes me back to that summer drive to camp where in one moment I was beyond irritated by the relentless demands of motherhood and in the next I was swept away by gratitude and love for my darling boy.