This morning was similar to most others. My son was still asleep at 7AM. His room lights were on suggesting he was up part of the night. When I went into his room to rouse him, I tickled him to get him moving as has been our custom for all these years. This time rather than get annoyed (as has been his most recent custom, these past few months) he laughed. He laughed. But then he got annoyed but at least he laughed.
The rest of the morning followed the usual trajectory as he remained lethargic and uninterested. I coached him into dressing. I marched him into the kitchen to eat. He asked me about death. I told him that I only talk about matters to do with living. He ate a little. Tried to go back to sleep. I let him sleep for a bit and then marched him outside to wait for his bus to school - hoping the chill of the morning air might rouse him.
It had little effect but I kept him by the door as we waited. The bus was late and I began to worry. Then I realized that I didn't have the contact information for the new transportation company. I left him by the front door as I searched hopefully for some sort of memo or note about the new transport arrangement. He was slumped in the doorway, sort of sleeping, occasionally muttering about not enjoying life or fearing death.
Then I heard "Bye, Daddy". I ran to the front door, the bus was there, my son was marching to it, the driver was apologizing for being late.
"Bye, Daddy"
I haven't heard that for weeks. He used to wait by himself for the bus or ride his bike. He would take off and say "Bye, Daddy" while I was busy tending to other menial chores.
"Bye, Daddy"
Is it wrong to be hopeful? Is it wrong to see that as a step in the right direction? Am I setting myself up for some grand disappointment?
Probably.
No comments:
Post a Comment