First Night

My son spent his first night in our new place. Starting last week, he was building up to it, taking a running start at the hurdle. We made a special night of it, partaking of the Discover Jazz Festival going on in Burlington, absorbed into the crowd at the top of Church Street enjoying funky horns and bright lights. We celebrated over a nice dinner, just the 2 of us, with gypsy swing in the background, followed by more music and more strolling along the street.


Back at the house, we watched yet another movie on the laptop. He was wound up, very talkative and funny with his monologues. There was a lingering over actual bedtime. He suggested a swap of paintings to get a sailing one of my Dad’s into his room. We discussed and experimented with lights to leave on or off. Out of the stack of left-over flooring, he set up a little nightstand behind his bed for his Ipod alarm, and talked about things to get in the morning so he wouldn’t have to keep remembering a lot to take back and forth. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be spooked by his Steven King novel his first night in a strange room.

Finally, we talked about the first time he came here when there was literally no bathroom floor. He told me that night it all looked great, but confided now that inside he was thinking it really was a mess and had been wondering what I could be imagining


All of this is testament of how far we have come, the huge changes currently under construction. The floors still need to be sanded. The kitchen counter is just a slab of plywood, and there are cabinets to build. Then there is the outside…a work forever in progress.

But the bathroom is nearly complete, very workable.




In six months, life for him as he has known it has dissolved. His Dad lives across town. Strangers continuously peek into his room, looking to buy his Home. He has no idea where his room will be when he goes back to school in the Fall. The changes are huge, but this cheerful kid keeps his humor and makes the best of each moment, loving and supporting each of his parents, growing into a man.

Life deals these blows. As a parent, especially in this circumstance, we feel responsible. If there could be any way to save our children from the disruption, the uncertainty, the anguish, we have sought to find the key. At some point, it becomes better to ease the transition than suffer more uncertainty, being caught in the turmoil. For me, there is no consolation to say more marriages end than last. By the measure of 20 years, our children’s youthful years, many would say it has been successful. Even being time to move on, the children, no matter what age, suffer the loss profoundly.



The best that I can do today is make the cherished pancakes that have been a tradition in our family. I cut up some melon, and unwrap the new silverware. At the recycle store later, we look at TVs, a lamp for his improvised night table, a night table itself, and actually buy a couple of puzzles, some cutlery, 2 glasses and a book for a grand total of $3.89. At another store we get an IPod charger for this place. Today, I just try to make it normal and share a few laughs

Please share with your friends

Tweet