What Dante Has Learned & What I Had Forgotten

At the end of Dante's stay here, I'm always melancholy. I try very hard to reflect on the good and sweet things I've learned, and not, for instance, on the fact that I somehow bungled and destroyed 2 rolls of film that included his birthday pictures and the big weekend we had. ARGH! I so need a digital camera. ;) People need to tell me their suggestions on one, as I don't really know what I'm looking at.

Back to Dante. He's learned that he prefers cloth napkins to paper ones ("These feel great!!") and that there is something to be said for a well set table. ("the pretty plates"). I've learned that I have a willing dinner partner who appreciates that I made the experience more beautiful.

I had forgotten how messy little boys are. I got a reminder quite fast. He is a giggling, benevolent, Chaos Sprite who cut a swath through the house that you might as well not bother to clean up, it'll only be there 15 minutes later. I know which battles to pick.

He learned that kids from Massachusetts have funny accents. ("Whaddaya doin', ya bonehead??"), although I'm quite sure his southern accent had the other boy in stitches as well.

I learned not to judge a county by what I think are it's prejudices. I get sick and tired of Dante being some people's black experience. I'm sorry it sounds so harsh, but it's a lot to ask of a kid to change somebody's pre-existing notions just by being yourself. And he does frequently. He's tamed some pretty racist parents. He's opened little boys' eyes and educated them. Just by existing in their space. I almost didn't let him go. I'm glad I did. They're thrilled I did.

He learned that Momma's home cooking is still preferable to restaurants. I learned to never call Chicken Cacciatore by it's real name, but to continually refer to it as "Tomato Chicken". Oh, and that if he's eating fish and he thinks it's chicken, continue to let him have his illusion. It's more peaceful that way.

I learned that he thinks my birthday is more important than his. This surprised me greatly. I had to sit on pillows all day and have my back propped by pillows. I was Queen of the World for that day. If he could've carted me around in a wagon, he would've. It was overwhelming.

I also learned that he is convinced that purple is my favorite color and continues to buy me jewelry that is purple, and I'd best not disabuse him of that notion. Someone else's suggestion that my favorite color might really be blue sent him into a tailspin of thinking he'd picked out all the wrong jewelry (I haven't told you about my massive fake jewelry collection, have I?). Why he thinks I like jewelry is beyond me considering that I wear next to none of it. But he greatly abused his father when his father wanted to buy Victoria's Secret as a Christmas gift. "DA-AAD! You don't buy women underwear, you buy them jewelry!!" Where he picked this up is also beyond me.

He was reminded that it's painful to come back and have to leave again. I'm sorry for that, son. I'm reminded that I love you greater than everything on this planet, and that it rips a new hole in me to see you cry for me. Even if I do know that you'll be perfectly happy tomorrow. I love you, babe.

--Virgil