A Dad's Emotions

(Photo by RA - September, 2009)

This morning, I put Sean on the school bus.  Nothing new there - I've done it nearly every day for the past two years, and sometimes during Kindergarten as well.  Yet as I watched him, my throat began to tighten.  What the deuce was going on?

I still don't know.  Maybe it was the weather, as we have a third straight gloomy, cold day here in the 845.  Maybe it was knowing that he wouldn't be with me tonight, though I have to admit I doubt that one.

Maybe, just maybe, it was another round of questions from nosy neighbors, wanting to know about our status in the the house.  For just as open as I can be about everything, I can also go into "shutdown" mode.  I've stayed very tight-lipped about the house, and will continue to.  At least to my neighbors.  Oh it's worked its way back to me that there have been questions:

- When are you leaving?
- Who is moving in?
- Is it a family? (jeez, why not just go ahead and ask about race and religion while you're at it?)
- Where are you going?

The house was put on the market in May, 2008.  Of course, it was not the best time for such things but we had a lot of foot traffic, though we had few takers.  We had one, but the deal fell through.  In the meantime, the questions persisted, from "why did the Realtor sign disappear" to "I saw moving trucks.  What's that about?"  So here we are.

Obviously it's nobody's business, but the neighbors just want to know who is moving into their bucolic little heaven.  I understand that, and would love to stay.  No neighborhood is perfect but I've really enjoyed it here.  I think we could have made a lot more of it than we did.  For instance, it's amazing to me how we know faces, but not a lot of names, and I know virtually none of the last names around here (a few, but not many).  We never fraternized with the neighbors (not that there's a lot of that these days anyway) and I would have liked to, but things got...well...weird.  Too many questions, too few answers.

It was a nice place to build a life with a family.

Maybe - for a moment - I felt the end of this era whacking me in the chest.  Am I happy to have it all end this way?  No, but it's time.  I'm excited (more than you all might know) for new beginnings and new experiences.  I think that will all begin this Friday, when doors close and new ones open.

I'd like to think, right now, that we've found the lowest point.  Now the climbing begins.

So maybe, on this dreadful, chilly Tuesday, as my watched one of the things that brings me such joy in life get on that bus, I felt a tinge of regret.  Or frustration.  Or anger.

Or maybe I just miss my boy.