The Needs of the Many...

Well, I spent my first Mother's Day sans child. Not my ideal situation, but I was prepared for it to happen. I went away to a conference until Saturday night, and I just couldn't afford to make the trip to Kentucky both timewise and dollarwise. I figured it would pan out that way, but I still cried some.

Mainly, I was crying because Dante's dad was crying. We were discussing the possiblity of Dante staying another year in Kentucky, and I posed the question of Dante coming back to West Virginia. There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and then a heartbreaking sadness that I really hadn't expected. I found out that his father has been waiting for years for the possibility of a "turn" at Dante staying with him. And that the past few months have been the happiest and most fulfilling time of his life. Dante has grown in leaps and bounds emotionally. He really did need this time with the menfolk.

Dante never asks me when can he come back, only when am I coming in for a visit. I don't mean to make it sound like he doesn't miss me, because he does. But it's clear that in the overall scale of human good, he's better off there than he is here. And his dad is better off with him there than I am with him here, no matter how much I miss him. And he keeps my mother in the present instead of in crazy fundy land when he's there. And he's happier overall there than he was here. It seems to boil down to this decision: have everything else ideally going your way but with your mother being a phone call, or have your mom and struggle through a lot of other things that don't exist in this other place.

It was a very emotional thirty minute discussion. But my son and his father have developed something very precious that feels wrong to split apart right now. And it's become very clear to me that in the overall human picture, my sacrifice is the only con to the arrangement. Everything else is a pro. How can I stand in the way of that?

So I whispered to his dad, "You can have him. You can keep him now." And so he stays. For good. And in my heart, I've prepared myself to let him stay for good. I've decided I'm not going to ask if he's ready to come back anymore. I know that if he is, he will tell me. But I have to find a new way to fit in now. This was a role I did not ever anticipate creating for myself. And, as usual, I'm blazing yet another new trail that I have no guide for to show me the way. Where is my Virgil?

--Virgil