August 16, 2012
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wacky stuff afoot…
I rolled out of bed, achy and tired. After a decent night’s rest. Too tired, and shivering with cold. It’s August. I end up calling out from work which is a rare occurrence. I have to take my oldest back to the dentist. I write the third check while I’m there. I’ve paid them a month’s wages in 2 weeks time, but the kids’ teeth and mine will be up to snuff. That’s a comfort. I’m all about comfort now.
I shiver in my stifling hot car while we drive to the high school my son attended last year. We go through the withdrawal process; teachers and staff are happy to see him, but will miss him. They compliment him. He’s a great kid, and it swells my heart to think that others have noticed too. When we leave, he searches the parking lot for his favorite teacher’s car, “I wish you could meet him.” I would like that. This teacher has radical ideas quite different from our own. Many of the other parents complained and switched their children from his class. I asked my son, “Why do you like him? Is he a good teacher?” My son assured me that he was, but there was more to it. The man was interesting, passionate about his beliefs. “But his beliefs are so different from your own. That doesn’t bother you to have a teacher believe something different?” I asked. My son asked if it bothered me. I shook my head, “There are many people who don’t share your beliefs. I think that this teacher must have some interesting ideas. He must be intelligent and interesting, too. I trust your judgement. If you tell me that he’s a good teacher, and that you enjoy his class and find his views interesting, then I believe that you should stay in his class.”
What a valuable lesson to learn so young! He found that he could respect and be friends with someone who had a different view. In return, this very good teacher encouraged my son to pursue a graduate degree. I hope someday that I can meet him face to face and thank him. That’s a lesson that I couldn’t have taught my son – not without help. As we walked to my broiling hot car I asked if he had his teacher’s email. He assured me that he did, and that he’d keep in touch.
Six hours later I had the kids registered at their new schools. I was exhausted, but curiously light of heart. Like the promise of healthy teeth, registration was also a comfort. My son smiled at me, “I’m looking forward to Monday. I’m glad that we’re registered.” He’s taking psychology for an elective. I pray that it’s the spark that lights the flame. He’s a natural. I can’t tell him what to do, but this has been his niche since he was in 1st grade. I will gladly help him find the scholarships and grants he needs. On that note, his favorite teacher and I agree. We will move completely this weekend. I will have but a few things to pick up, but we’ll be in the new house.
Few things have fostered such peace in my heart.
J calls this evening and leaves a voicemail message. He needs to discuss something with me. I call him back when my son is riding back with his dad. Immediately he asks if I’ve been on the social networking site. I haven’t. I could care less, but I don’t elaborate. J doesn’t mince words. A mutual friend called him at 1:15 am, admitting to being strung out on xanax. She was hellbent on explaining to him WHY she deleted him from her contacts. She also deleted 6 other people, and I was one of them. I asked why and he told me that the woman balked, stating that she “had her reasons”. Then she questioned him about his relationship with me, would he forsake me for her? He laughed, “She’s my best friend. I wouldn’t pick you over her.” This woman has had a couple dates with J, nothing intimate or regular. She strikes me as horny and desperate. I’ve seen it before. There, but for the grace of God, go I.
I told J that I didn’t have time for the middle school drama, “If she comes to her senses and sends me a note and a request to be added to my contacts, I’ll politely decline. That woman is wacky. I’ve heard this shit before. She doesn’t trust you, and she’s willing to slander her friends (including some very married ones) to make you look like a man whore and to make her look long-suffering.”
F*** that noise!
I very quietly posted a note stating that I wouldn’t accept requests for “adds” from people who deleted me in a chemical induced rage.
I smiled broadly when I walked in my new house. So perfect it seemed!
J asked if I’d change mind, “No,” I replied, “If she wants to act the ass, then so be it. I’m through with her.”
D is now “unspoken”. He’s made an attempt to contact me, but I didn’t bite. It hangs in the laundry room, forlorn and unanswered. He can’t follow where I will go. It no longer matters.
