Thursday, July 07, 2011
Reality nibbles
Today my big son walked to his bank, then to BART for a trip to San Francisco. No big deal, right? Well, I had a strange moment. He's 40 years old, twice as big as I am, very capable at everything. But I had this compulsion to drive him, so he wouldn't have to walk. As he said "Bye" and closed the door, I saw a very large man with my eyes, but my heart saw this happy, round-faced little boy who depended on me for everything. He is very much able to walk a mile and ride the train to the City, but he's still my little boy.
The moment passed quickly enough. I went into the yard and did some gardening.
In a few minutes, my daughter texted me, asking if I were going to be around or go to Stockton. I phoned her and left a voicemail, saying I'd be here, but please call if she wanted to come over. She didn't call back. This moment left a different echo in me. Something she wants, but can't articulate because there is some sort of split in what used to be my family. The divorce wasn't just between my ex-wife and me, it includes the children. No, not legally, but pretty effectively. Their form of hostility is passive-aggressive: by not saying anything, they are effectively cutting me out of their lives. This sad condition arises from their mom's approach. By being silent, no one can accuse her of being rude.
But that's her approach, not mine. I communicate with my children, even if they don't reciprocate. That's my approach.
Yet I had a feeling that I wasn't doing enough with my big son when he left this afternoon. Yep, monoculture is hard to understand.
The moment passed quickly enough. I went into the yard and did some gardening.
In a few minutes, my daughter texted me, asking if I were going to be around or go to Stockton. I phoned her and left a voicemail, saying I'd be here, but please call if she wanted to come over. She didn't call back. This moment left a different echo in me. Something she wants, but can't articulate because there is some sort of split in what used to be my family. The divorce wasn't just between my ex-wife and me, it includes the children. No, not legally, but pretty effectively. Their form of hostility is passive-aggressive: by not saying anything, they are effectively cutting me out of their lives. This sad condition arises from their mom's approach. By being silent, no one can accuse her of being rude.
But that's her approach, not mine. I communicate with my children, even if they don't reciprocate. That's my approach.
Yet I had a feeling that I wasn't doing enough with my big son when he left this afternoon. Yep, monoculture is hard to understand.
