Tag Archives: Rue

A good day

Our last night in Park City.  I’m sitting up alone in the kitchen of the suite my parents rented for this trip.  A little sad.  A little happy.  A lot tired.

Rue had a bit of a meltdown today.

He is a rule-abiding sort.  If he weren’t my son, and a seven-year-old, he’d be kind of a ninny.  He doesn’t like to skip school, even with permission from the grown-ups, because it’s a rule.  He Does Not Like Breaking Rules.

Combine that with the fact that he’s a real people-pleaser who puts anyone’s desires ahead of his own.  He is loath to make any decision without first being absolutely sure that it’s the decision that will best please all other parties.

Combine that with my mother, desperately trying to manipulate him into skipping school to spend more time with us.

Add further the fact that he Had to go to school today, for testing, and because another day off would put him on the district’s educational-neglect list, which would look pretty bad for his mother, the assistant principal of his school.

Torn between two of his most basic tendencies (rule-abiding and people-pleasing), and the result was that he had something like a panic-attack.

Poor little guy.

He finished the school day.  Kept to the rules.  And it seemed that he was okay by the time I saw him.

For me, the day started with a massage.  Which was the best thing I’ve done for myself in ages.  Just half an hour of Swedish massage, by an extremely good masseuse.  It was insanely wonderful.  God, I wish I’d gotten an hour.  It was the most sensuous and healing thing I’ve felt in more than a year.  I went because I had an incredibly painful knot yesterday, and now, fourteen hours after her work, I still have back-bliss.

Then we went to pick up Rue, but he had his meltdown and decided not to skip the afternoon, so we had to wait four extra hours for him, with nothing to do, on the outskirts of Salt Lake City.  It was a drag.  My brother and dad and I went to Barnes and Noble for an hour, sat in a restaurant for two, just killing time.

Finally we picked him up, and he was fine.  We had a brilliant afternoon.  Swimming, playing with his matchbox cars, making faces at each other.  I just love that kid.

When we dropped him off back at his house, I felt satisfied by this visit, these four days.  I wasn’t really sad.  That comes now.

It’s two in the morning.  I can’t sleep, as ususual.  And now I’m looking forward to the next time I might get to visit, and the dismal time in between.  I’m feeling grief for this beautiful childhood that I’m missing.  Being an absentee father just sucks.


The short of it is that any day I get to hang out with Rue is a good day.  And if I get a massage into the bargain, it’s a great day.

Computers in the morning

It’s 7:39 in Park City. The sun has risen. My son has just risen. Good morning Rue. I love you, you dear little thing.

He has his iPad. He’s playing something with the sound off. Probably Angry Birds. First thing in the morning. The world of video games opening. I’m glad I got him that. Now he has email. Now he has Skype. Lines of communication opening. Now I can email him to ask if he wants oatmeal for breakfast. What a good birthday present.

Park City

I’m visiting my son this week, along with my whole family.  My parents own some weird hotel timeshare thing, and they wanted to visit Rue, so they used their points to get a 3-room suite at the Marriot in Park City, and brought along my brother and me.

Rue just turned 7.  He’s a brilliant, beautiful little boy.  I don’t get to see him enough.  It’s been two months this time.  Someday, for at least some part of his childhood, I need to live in the same state as my son.

Seeing Rue and Rachel stresses me out at the best of moments.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s just too built up.  Too much emotion attached to seeing him and to not seeing him.

With my mom here, the stress is ten times worse.  The woman wears me out.  I love her more than anything, she’s a great mom, and her unshakable belief that she knows what’s best for everybody at every moment is a huge pain in the patience.  I’m glad to be here, but gads, the family vacation thing is for the birds.