I think it is okay to not always see eye-to-eye. This holds true for relationships with spouses, parents, friends, children, etc. Such behavior doesn’t make one party right and one party wrong. It just makes both parties different from the other. But why? Why are we different? Is there a point? I can think of a number of colloquialisms and adages that speak to variety being “the spice of life” and such but the truth to this timeless riddle is that no one truly knows. Perhaps the closest answer comes from the Arabic word taaruf – to live together. We all have strengths and weaknesses that when combined create a dynamic and strong fabric.

Lately I have been quite busy. My job is demanding and challenging. I am traveling quite a bit. Gardening season is running full speed. I am speaking more now than I ever have addressing groups on Eco-Conscious Living and ‘Going Green.’ I am writing on a regular basis for several blogs and print magazines. And I am still booking photo shoots. Granted I am not doing all of this each and every day but it still pulls me away from the leisure I sometimes wish I had. I often find myself asking if I am making enough time for Pan or if I am making enough time or God in my life. I feel like I am but when I am in their presence I find myself just not seeing eye to eye with either. It all causes a feeling of disconnect and even loneliness at times.

Mind you, I am not complaining. I am just rather throwing my thoughts out there in a fishing attempt to see if anyone can see things from my eye level right now.

We have all heard the recent reports. About 6.6 million U.S. households in 2009 had at least three generations of family members, an increase of 30 percent since 2000, according to census figures. When “multigenerational” is more broadly defined to include at least two adult generations, a record 49 million, or one in six people, live in such households, according to a study recently released Thursday by the Pew Research Center.

Pan and I moved “back home” in December 2008 for a number of reasons. I had had it with living in the big apple and longed for a simpler life. I had also recently closed a business enterprise after mounting debt and an uncertain future got the better of my team. Pan and I were preparing to get married and knew we wanted to be further south in the area we both grew up in.

Our options were few as I had no job, she only had seasonal employment, we had no worldly possessions to speak of and the economy wasn’t allowing for really any loans to help us get back on our feet. Thankfully my folks were only two years into their new home – a 3200 square foot, custom built home in rural, middle Georgia. They welcomed us with open arms and before long we had assimilated into our own semi-private part of the house.

I found a job. Pan found a little rest from the uncertainty of our previous lives. My folks enjoyed having us around. Pan took up shop in the kitchen creating amazing meals for the whole family. I made myself available to help my dad around the yard and farm area. Things were working out well for all involved.

By mid-winter though the reality started setting in. Pan and I had moved back home and began to feel like we were mooching at times. We just didn’t have a lot and most of our income went to paying down debt. We often expressed our sense of disappointment and fear to each other. She wanted to be closer to the water. Having grown up minutes from the Atlantic she felt landlocked and shell-shocked. I was working almost 60 hours a week and felt sorry for myself and like I was unable to provide for my wife. The heartache had begun to set in. “Lord,” we would pray, “show us our path. Give us some guidance. It isn’t easy and we just don’t know where we fit in.” At time the notion of being under someone else’s roof would overwhelm us and we would bicker with each other. But other problems were starting to surface.

Two couples. One house. While we had our privacy it seemed we were never alone and for newlyweds…well, that can be tough. My folks are so respecting of our privacy and our schedules but being their kid there are time when I don’t want to help my Dad. There are time when my mother does nag me. I am sure there are times when we don’t want to share our business with my folks and we don’t care what they think about a situation. But that is par for the course and right now we are putting on someone else’s green.

I am not complaining. I am not even regretful for our current position. In fact, 95% of the time I am happy living together as we do and I look forward to adding a 3rd generation to the mix. But it is not easy. I guess no one ever said it is. There are headaches. There are heartaches. There are times when we are put in the middle or we unfairly ask them to sit in the middle of our junk. But when I look around at others I think how unique this season in life is; this place God has put us. Each morning I get to share a cup of coffee with my folks, chatting about the day to come and each night I get to lay beside my wife with the promise of a new tomorrow.

So what do you think about multi-generational living? Could you do it? Do you do it? Would you like to try it? Let me hear from you!

There have been moments in life when (much like the Adam Sandler movie) I wish life had a remote control. I could fast-forward the pain; pause the tender moments. With this remote control I could make the awesome moments literally last a lifetime…or at least a few minutes longer. That moment when I was 14 and I was given my first paycheck made out to Andrew M. Odom – I could live it over and over. Or maybe that night when I told you I was going to flirt with you in the next five minutes and you giggled after responding, “who’s stopping you?”

If anyone still reads this blog, take a minute or two and describe a moment in time when you wanted to either stretch out or pause your life—the last time you walked hand and hand with a loved one; a spiritual awakening; or a perfect vacation day.

Today is my sister Brianna’s 17th birthday. I am pretty sure I remember each of them quite well. There is little one can say about someone as special as she is. I have watched her grow up from a little redhead in hand-me-down clothes (I especially liked her little slip on rainbow shoes) to a gorgeous young woman on prom night. Although she sometimes annoys me with her seemingly poor choices, I am always reminded of just how amazing family is and how much of an impact one person can make on your life. Bri, I wish you the happiest of birthdays and I hope you have a blessed year to come.

Feel free to leave a birthday wish for Bri here. I don’t want to give out her email ’cause I know some of you are waiting for her to turn 18…you sickos!

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