Last night was open house at the kids' school, and more reminders how far behind Nic is. I had an epiphany of sorts a few minutes ago why he likes his Segway chase on Wii and Poptropica. In the latter, he bought a ghost with a membership, which follows him around. On the Segway game, he has a dog that helps him defeat the moles.
The common denominator is the 'friend' these objects are to him in their respective universes.
The friend he doesn't have in the here and now.
I am not sad often, but when I am, I am overwhelmed by it. I like anger better; anger motivates you to act.
Sorrow drowns you, weighs you down. It can kill.
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A little while later, we were talking about the day. I was lying on the floor in his room, he was on his bed. He came down to curl up next to me and talk about some of his favorite things.
He wanted to know what foods I liked to eat when I was his age.
In the spaces of our words, I understood that he *gets* my deeper worries about friends, or lack thereof. I also understand that he was letting me know that he's okay. After all, he has me, dad, and G. And in some ways, that's all he needs, and it's good.
How sweet that he wants to protect me. He's stronger than I ever guess--wiser, too.
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