Jonathon's Closet

Sunday, November 19, 2006

What "The Man" got for Christmas:

I wanted to scream at you “how stupid can you be?”
Yet I know that you’re not stupid.
Didn’t it tell you anything that he called you?
On his own, he called you.
I realize now that you didn’t catch on
Let me spell it out for you

Time together on the Eve of Christmas
Yeah, I know you haven’t been around
So here’s the translation:
You have been invited to be part of a tradition,
“Our annual night of gratitude,
and you have to be here, OK?”, he asked and you agreed.

No, I didn’t realize he had called you until after it was done
Yes, I was slightly taken aback
After all, this is one of the few traditions we have left,
A ritual started by Don, only a short time before his death
It is time spent together that I value highly
As I know Jona does too.

He explained it to me, how he wanted you there
And there it was, in my face, exactly what you have become
I didn’t need to ask, but I did
“Hey, I thought this was our day …”
And he replied, “face it, Mom, John’s family”
I smiled, and then I hid and cried

I cried with the realization that Don has, indeed, been replaced.
I cried at the sharpness of the pain of his absence.
I cried at the intrusion of an outsider into “our time”
I cried with relief that he accepts you as part of us.
I cried with joy, as I came to understand that you are not an outsider.
And I thankfully accepted that you are, in a sense, “family”.

I am so pleased that he values you as much as he does
I hope you know that I value you as well
I love you completely, and I smile
As I watch the black and white of our rituals fade into a soft gray,
As I feel yet another wall tumble down
My heart, and my son, welcomes the blessing of you.

Yet I am left asking, how could you not understand?
I know you’re not stupid.
Couldn’t you see it? Couldn’t you feel it?
Didn’t you realize what it must’ve taken
For this small boy
To open the door and invite you into his father’s place?


  • My kids always called us by our first names, there's a story behind that, and it avoided the "Dad" problem for the mate.

    My boy said "my Dad" when talking about the mate on the phone the other day.

    In his heart the mate was the dad, the man that fathered him was long gone and cruel besides.

    Everyone needs a parent to go to. When we lose ours we look for others we can respect and love to help us grow.

    My Dad is gone but I have older men I can ask for help as Dads if I need them.

    I pray the story has a happy ending for all of you.

    By Blogger Valerie - Riding Solo, at 9:46 AM  

  • i hope this is the beginning of something great for both of you!

    By Blogger Mrs. M, at 7:31 AM  

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