Peeking in to catch you all up, before D and I go out for the evening, our usual dinner and a movie. I’m sitting at my laptop in the living room, watching A and M play with the hose and our plastic pool. They’re running from the swing set, running in the wet grass and wearing their goggles, looking funny as they splash into the pool, hysterical laughter jamming up against the windows. J’s playing drums in the office. The dog, this black dog of mine, is under the table, her hot body leaning on my ankles.
J’s camp went well, so well he got us to pay for the second week. The people in charge were great – gave us a huge discount, snuck us into their scholarship program so we only had to pay $250 instead of $650. Friday ended with a concert featuring the six bands at the camp and it was sweet, loud, and dreamy. The kids were on stage, being rock stars, playing their instruments well, singing lyrics they wrote. Lyrics that focused on being independent, being their own people, facing a violent world with open eyes and too-soon-to-be-aching hearts. J was among the most experienced musicians there and I think it was a good thing. He made some wonderful connections – fellow musicians.
What I found amazing was J’s passion for the music – he came home with blistered hands, dropping off to sleep early, anxious to get to the school in the morning. The kids there are fellow artists – they all have their “weirdnesses.” Clearly, he found himself in a pool of like-minded people and he swam beautifully. I’m sad there isn’t a school here, local, that could feed that passion. Our schools have all but deemed art a crime.
Another twist to the week was a visitor – a friend of A’s spent two nights with us. The friend is worthy of a second, separate post. I don’t how to describe it, to frame the situation. The mom went to the hospital and needed someone to take of her son which is where we stepped in. The father wouldn’t do anything other than stick to his “days” and her mother felt unable to watch the child. A sister also couldn’t save the day so here was this woman with the love of her life, her son, and nobody to help her. I had to work on D – he’s a cynic, he fears being used. It’s a bone of contention between us. I’m always ready to help and he grumbles. Maybe she IS using us, but I don’t think so. She always gives me things, things she should not be buying because she has no money because she can’t work…because she suffers from debilitating depression. Maybe it’s a like-mind, maybe I help her, am ready to help, because I walk a cliff’s edge, knowing I could drop off in that same way at any moment. And maybe D knows it, too, and is afraid of it, and doesn’t know a single person who could come in to save OUR day if we should both drop off. So…he grumbles.
Oh my, it’s time to go. The sitter’s coming. I have nothing to wear.