Every Tuesday Two Writing Teachers provide an opportunity to share your writing.
Every Tuesday Two Writing Teachers provide an opportunity to share your writing.

How many of you remember the 1970 movie Lovers And Other Strangers?    One of the plots revolved around Mike’s Italian-American parents, Frank (Richard Castellano) and Bea (Beatrice Arthur), who are relentlessly trying to dissuade Richie and Joan from divorcing.  The tag lines from this plot were, “So, what’s the story Richie?” And the line from the wedding reception, “Do you see so and so, do you think their happy? But they are still married.


Dom and I remember thinking that this whole plot was hilarious.  Of course, we identified with the newlyweds in the movie and  thought the angst the parents were suffering over their son’s impending divorce very humorous.

I had lunch with a group of friends.  Our friendship date back to when our 40 something children were in grammar school.  The conversation turned to the number of those children who were starting to get divorced and how sad we all felt every time we heard that kind of news.

Later in the day I was telling Dom the news from lunch and I thought about this movie.  We both acknowledged that it was a very strange feeling to now have the role of the parents.  And we both agreed that we didn’t find Frank and Bea’s angst so hilarious anymore.

Isn’t it funny how your perspective on life changes?

Wishing you only happy news,


About Bernadette

I live in the small town of Haddonfield, NJ. I am at an age in my life when I seem to spend time thinking and musing about life. These musings are usually stimulated by my walks through Haddonfield, my reading of books and fellow bloggers, and my interaction with my group of fabulous family and friends.

47 Responses

  1. Bernadotte, I’ve found my view on life changes as my ‘roles’ increase, something I’ve often thought about. At the beginning a child, then girlfriend, wife, mother. At the same time working role in life – all these constant changes adding to the colour and vibrancy of ones existence. My son is still in his mid teens so the next big step is university in a few years!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. cmargocs

    It’s a sign of maturity when you realize your perspective has changed…and that it’s okay it’s done so. My firstborn is a college grad now…watching her navigate relationships is a new experience for me, too!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. All three of my children are married…..they all have their ups and downs, as we all do. When we do speak of things, I use myself and their father as an example of what NoT To Do…..there’s no bashing in what I say..instead, hopefully lessons learned.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Good heavens–we’re all growing up, aren’t we?

    You invited me to share something I’ve written, so I searched my stories for something about growing up. I mostly write fantasy, but hopefully this one will do. It’s called Phoenix. 🙂


    Personally, I blame the phoenix. It’s supposed to rise from the ashes to signal the beginning of a new age, and now I’m wondering if that’s ever going to happen. We need a new era. Somebody should do something.

    Take 1999 as a case in point. On January first, UCLA went down in the Rose Bowl. And to who? The Wisconsin Badgers.

    And the year went downhill from there. We had the President of the United States plastered over every media known to man, attempting to lawyer his way out of Monica Lewinsky. The world’s population passed the six billion mark, and we couldn’t feed everybody even before that happened. A bunch of school kids got shot by their classmates in Colorado. And you couldn’t turn around without hearing about Y2K. My neighbor sank his life’s savings into an emergency food stash. He’s going to be disappointed if everyone’s okay in the new millennium.

    What did I do? I was too intelligent to waste my money on beans and rice. I booked a flight from LAX to Paris. I was going to spend Christmas at Notre Dame, and the New Year partying on the Champs-Elysees. French women and wine, right? I even bought a French-English dictionary.
    And then, right after Christmas, Cyclone Lothar hit Paris. I made it back to my hotel just before the electricity died.

    The storm raged all night, although it was impossible to tell the extent of the damage in the dark. But I could hear the trees being ripped apart outside, a massive tearing sound, followed by the thud as they struck buildings and cars. I spent the evening huddled under my blankets because the electric heat was out along with the lights. The French Army mobilized its soldiers, but what could they do? Storms aren’t impressed by tanks and guns.

    I poked my head outside on the morning of the twenty-seventh, and that’s when Cyclone Martin struck. This storm added heavy rain to the devastating winds; the combination of the two made it impossible to see outside. I left the lobby and climbed the stairs back to the fourth floor. I was glad there was a fifth floor; at least if our roof blew off there’d be something between me and the rain.
    I spent the rest of the day in my room, except for periodic forays for food. The kitchen served
    only sandwiches, but everybody seemed relieved to see them. Except for my fellow countryman, the beer-belly geezer down the hall who fought here on D-day and apparently thinks the storm is the entire French nation showing their lack of gratitude.

    The next morning, the rain had finally ceased, but the reckoning of the damage had barely begun. The view from my window showed people picking their way around the rubble in the street. Some of them stumbled, and some merely stared, as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. The hotel across from mine had a construction crane thrown smack down the middle of it. It now showed a cross-section of Parisian decor, augmented by wreckage.

    Down in the lobby, the beer-belly guy was complaining to the manager again. The manager’s jaw clenched, then he turned and said something in rapid-fire French to a lady and two girls huddled in the corner on a couch. She stared at him a moment in disbelief, but stood and began to shepherd her children toward the door. The youngest was crying and clutching a doll.

    “Why are you leaving?” It was none of my business, but that street was no place for children.
    The lady shot my countryman a look of pure loathing. “The American says we should not be here. So the manager has said we must find shelter at the school, even though I told him the roof had blown off.” She was still trying to get her daughters to the door, but the youngest was dragging her feet, and I didn’t blame her. This was wrong. Somebody should do something.

    As she reached the door, I said, “Wait.” This was something I could fix. “Uh, monsieur, allow this woman to have my room. I assume you can find me a corner to sleep where I will not offend the other guests.”

    When no one objected, I gestured to the woman to precede me down the hallway. All three of them put some hustle into it, the older girl pulling on her mother’s arm. That was smart; I gave the complaining geezer maybe sixty seconds before he recovered from the shock and found something wrong with this, too. I’d get them settled in, then I’d go out and lend a hand to clear some of the wreckage.

    In my heart, the phoenix spread its wings.


  5. My son graduated from high school this past weekend and I found myself thinking a lot about what my mom was like when I graduated high school….so old, I thought back then. Surely, my son doesn’t think the same of me. Does he??

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I remember that movie too. All humor for me too but now I need to rethink. We’ve had a divorce in our family and it was for the best but startling. I think I need to see that film again.

    Thanks Bernadette

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Perspective changes as we grow. The last of my 3 sons turns 30 this year. OMG, I could not imagine what I would be feeling now back when these little babies were being born. You know what I mean? Thanks Bernadette!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Yes, laughing with tears now. My children are miles from marriage and possible divorce, but also miles from those grammar school moments. They are old enough for me to know things rarely turn out how you expect and we parents have to change our perspective.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I am not even close to having married children, but I am officially no longer a mother to teenagers. My youngest turned 20 the end of May. And yes, my perspective has changed, but I am OK with that. I have enjoyed every stage.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. i haven’t seen that movie, but I’ve now rewatched movies I remember loving as a teenager or 20-something and identifying with other characters or having very different views on the actions of the characters I loved at the time.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I remember when we thought 30 was old! I always thought my grandsons saw me as a pretty cool up-to-date grandma until one of them recently asked if I knew what a drone was, having already undermined this belief by asking if I remembered the war (as in WWll!)

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Amy

    You are so right! Somedays I swear I have turned into my mother as I speak to my daughter. My mother’s words just come spewing out of my mouth. The tides are shifting that’s for sure!

    Liked by 1 person

  13. My partner and I have been married for 40 years. I’m not sure happy is the right word, but content really is. Our two boys are just starting out with significant others. I keep my fingers crossed. It breaks my heart when my nieces and nephews end up divorced. Part of it is not wanting them to feel pain, and the rest is sometimes just wanting people to understand that none of us are perfect. I hate to think I am getting old and set in my ways, but there are times when it seems to me that people have impossible expectations for relationships. Sigh. In the meantime, my guy and I keep at it.


  14. That’s true, perspective changes with experience. Still, having an unhappy marriage isn’t the best option, but acting mature and trying to fix it sounds like an option to me. Unless there is abuse, everything else can be fixed by two interested, mature individuals.

    Liked by 1 person


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.