September 7. Back-to-school night

Stone
Stone
Sep 7, 2018 · 3 min read

I was nervous about attending my first back-to-school night (B2SN). It was September and the golden colors of autumn leaned southerly westward. The day was spent imagining our life as tenants in someone else’s home perched over your home below and a divorced dad and his son above. I was nervous about greeting parents and wondering if they knew. There I saw YKW in her new black spectacles like a raccoon bandit. I touched her arm hesitatingly amongst our friends. I wondered if she was getting tips from our divorced friend.

We went into his kindergarten room. I wondered if she was wondering if YKW would sit as a couple or apart like Brownian motion. I notice that each circular table had names taped around the center. The tables were like hobbit sized Ritz discs thrown into a diminutive classroom. Our slice of the cracker-shaped table was our son’s place surprisingly. Here his soft peach of a butt would sit while he drew pictures of his mom or dad apart. Here he would learn to read. Here he will learn to be mindful. We were lucky was what I felt. Lucky as our PTO commander would say for being able to send our son to such a beautiful school and live in overpriced neighborhoods. Here unemployed and going through a divorce with a son who suffers from a broken heart, I will suffer the discomfort of this humbling experience.

It was a good decision to listen to the voice that said, “lean into the discomfort.” I volunteered for art class and as the library helper. It would be a considerable drive on gas that I cannot afford. Perhaps depending on art or library, I will add another 100 miles to visit my son to give him a piggyback ride, to rub the sand off his small feet, to love him close to let him know that he is not alone.

It was a good decision to say goodbye to my son after my first B2SN though I thought he might want me to stay overnight. It was the first B2SN since two scores more or less when I went to B2SN. This time the tables were turned. I was the parent and my adoration was my child. Never would have I imagined that someone would marry me at such a ripened age. Never have I imagined I would have a son with peaches for a heinie. Never have I imagined since I married my wife that a trust would be irrevocably broken.

I said good-bye to son as my wife idled her Audi. She patiently waited for my son to give up on having a romantic goodbye where the lover holds his hand out the window till the carriage drives away. It wasn’t going to happen that night parked beside an idyllic park at sunset. The power window rolled up, those tiny hands retreated into the car, and that was the end of another Thursday apart. I have her repayment requests for expenses spent on our joint account to consider during my drive home. I may have to borrow more money to pay for my sins I never committed during our marriage. I have to stop asking her. I have to lean into the discomfort. I have to remember I have leftover kale and rice. And tomorrow, I have my son for two night! Yum.