I used to keep a diary...
I used to keep a diary (not quite a log book, but almost) of things Alexander and I did. Sometimes, when he was away at school, Lillian and I would read through it, curled side by side on a divan, wrapped in blankets. We'd laugh, occasionally cry, and sometimes we'd talk about what he would be like once he was grown.
Lionel never looked at it, or at least not with us. I don't know if he wasn't interested, or if he just didn't want to be reminded of how much he had missed. I want to think it was the latter.
When Alexander was four, he nearly drove me to distraction asking what time it was.
One day, after the sixth time he had asked in an hour, I said "Are you asking because you're busy today? Do you have a lot planned?"
He nodded, and started counting items off on his fingers. "We have to read, and I want to paint you a picture, and write my name, and Dad said I need a bath because I look unruly."
I tried not to laugh.
"Pam, what does unruly mean?"
And that led to his next phase that nearly drove me mad - asking for definitions. Of course, he had to learn the meanings somehow, since no one spoke to him as though he was a child, but there were days I wished he would ask someone else.
"Pam, would you like some of my cookie?"
"No, thank you, Alexander."
Shrug. "Suit yourself." He walked out of the room, then turned around and came right back in again.
"Pam, what does 'suit yourself' mean?"
"Pam, what brings Michael here today?"
"His car," I replied, deadpan.
Alexander looked at me, serious and slightly annoyed. "That is not what I meant," he informed me in a clipped tone.
I burst out laughing, despite myself.
"Will you miss me, Pam?" he asked as we stood outside waiting for the limo. Three suitcases sat neatly beside him.
"Of course I will." I crouched down beside him.
"What if I don't make any friends?"
I smiled gently. "You will."
Hr frowned. "Are you sure?"
I put my hands on his shoulders, and turned him to face me. "Alexander, all across the country, little boys just like you are waiting with their nannies, asking the same questions. You're all going away to school for the first time, and you're all worried about it." I smoothed my hand over his hair. "You'll all be a little afraid at first, but then you'll get to know each other, and get to know your teachers, and soon you'll be so caught up in learning new things that you won't even remember standing here today worrying about it all."
He smiled a little.
"And if you ever get lonely, there's a piece of paper in your bible with my private phone number on it. You can use it to talk to your mom or me, and your dad won't have to know," I whispered.
He grinned, and leaned in for a hug. "Thanks Pam."
I wish he could still call when he needed to talk.
Lionel never looked at it, or at least not with us. I don't know if he wasn't interested, or if he just didn't want to be reminded of how much he had missed. I want to think it was the latter.
When Alexander was four, he nearly drove me to distraction asking what time it was.
One day, after the sixth time he had asked in an hour, I said "Are you asking because you're busy today? Do you have a lot planned?"
He nodded, and started counting items off on his fingers. "We have to read, and I want to paint you a picture, and write my name, and Dad said I need a bath because I look unruly."
I tried not to laugh.
"Pam, what does unruly mean?"
And that led to his next phase that nearly drove me mad - asking for definitions. Of course, he had to learn the meanings somehow, since no one spoke to him as though he was a child, but there were days I wished he would ask someone else.
"Pam, would you like some of my cookie?"
"No, thank you, Alexander."
Shrug. "Suit yourself." He walked out of the room, then turned around and came right back in again.
"Pam, what does 'suit yourself' mean?"
"Pam, what brings Michael here today?"
"His car," I replied, deadpan.
Alexander looked at me, serious and slightly annoyed. "That is not what I meant," he informed me in a clipped tone.
I burst out laughing, despite myself.
"Will you miss me, Pam?" he asked as we stood outside waiting for the limo. Three suitcases sat neatly beside him.
"Of course I will." I crouched down beside him.
"What if I don't make any friends?"
I smiled gently. "You will."
Hr frowned. "Are you sure?"
I put my hands on his shoulders, and turned him to face me. "Alexander, all across the country, little boys just like you are waiting with their nannies, asking the same questions. You're all going away to school for the first time, and you're all worried about it." I smoothed my hand over his hair. "You'll all be a little afraid at first, but then you'll get to know each other, and get to know your teachers, and soon you'll be so caught up in learning new things that you won't even remember standing here today worrying about it all."
He smiled a little.
"And if you ever get lonely, there's a piece of paper in your bible with my private phone number on it. You can use it to talk to your mom or me, and your dad won't have to know," I whispered.
He grinned, and leaned in for a hug. "Thanks Pam."
I wish he could still call when he needed to talk.