...is ripe and ready. Coming on the heels of summer, and matching the life cycle of Mother Earth, it's no wonder that my October child is as intuitive and thoughtful as he is. A year ago, I wrote this thinking about Michael, and his grand entrance into the world, which happens to be October 22nd. 'October' gets its name from the old Roman calendar, where it actually fell as the 8th month. It was moved to position 10 after January and February were added. It just so happens that January is when Michael's Dad was born, and February was when I was born. Perhaps, Michael's premature wisdom comes from an alignment in the stars....he's able to read us so well, because he existed before us, not because of us. That's a maze I often find myself walking, as a parent; Michael exists through me, yet there is no doubt in my mind that I exist through him, for him. (February's child, obviously, is heavy and intense).
I try not to get too personal here, mostly for fear of creating a digital echo, but I think, in this instance, I can make an exception. In those 'musings' from last October, I wrote about being a single Mom. And for a short time, I was a single Mom. However, being somewhat recently engaged, and well on my way to being a Mrs., I can no longer qualify myself as such. Being a single Mom is a tough and challenging job...I am blessed in my mate as he lessens the burden of parenting alone, while still respecting the unique bond my son and I share, and, it should be noted, the bond my son and his father share. It is a tight rope to walk, but Jim does so with grace and ease...making me love him all the more.
It's tough, this life. We have to learn to love and let go, all at the same time. Sometimes we have to let go for the very sake of love. When Michael isn't with me, physically, my senses dull and my mood changes, something I struggle with on a weekly basis. There is a constant hole in my heart which I try to fill with distraction from the second he's gone until the second he's back. And--apparently--my boy has seen straight through me. Michael has always been an old soul. Unlike most 1st graders who busy themselves with dinosaurs and armpit farts, his questions often tread the deeper end of the pool, on topics like the universe and heaven and religion and God and death and age and the nature of good and evil. Not that we don't have armpit farts, because we do (Michael is quite talented in that department, actually). But his mind is sharpened to the world in such a unique way.
Observing all this, I shouldn't be surprised when he tries to band aid my feelings of what he perceives as sadness with 'I'll be back soon!s' and 'I'll be thinking of you at bed time!'s'. And his perception is not so wrong; I am sad when he goes for those 2 and 5 day stretches. I'm sad for the failure I feel at not being able to give him one whole home, instead of two halves that make a whole. I'm sad for the anguish he must feel at being in a constant tandem between 'Mom's' and 'Dad's'. As hard as we both work to support and encourage his relationship with the other, in my heart of hearts I know he can't help but feel a tug of loyalty. So I'm sad for the divisive nature of his childhood, the bipartisan waters his young heart is so soon learning to navigate. Lastly, I'm sad for me, for the selfish yearnings of my own heart. For the selfish wish to always be near him, to always enjoy him, and to always be wanted no matter where he is.
But behind every cloud, shines the sun. Sad as I may be, resolved I am further to give Michael as much love and stability as I can. I am determined to foster an environment of love and compassion and I am beyond blessed with the support system I've been granted to do that. So this October...as my October child turns 7, and enters his 8th year on earth, I celebrate his life as it is; imperfect...but filled with an abundance of love and warmth and affection and faith and devotion....and armpit farts.
I love you, Michael Dane xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
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