This Story
I was noticing last night while Bill met with Walter how the different pieces made me feel. Why did he have to spend time in the office with him?...the room last on my list to tidy and therefore...slightly untidy. The backyard with its awkward remnants that this renter hasn’t sorted. Yeesh.
I had pulled out a bat puzzle and an owl game and set up a recipe in the kitchen in case they needed an activity to ground their time. But they go through favorite clothes and collections in his room, look at the patch of wildflower seeds we planted last weekend and play a mermaid board game. I notice his tone is not always soft or his comments nuanced. Where is that respectful or at least neutral tone that people receive best?
I sit and read on the couch for a bit...wrapping up a love story that doesn’t require much effort and acknowledges the supremacy of feelings and chemistry and happily-ever-after. I finish the lemon pie and put it in the oven and take out the chicken that’s roasted. I wasn’t sure if it was coming off as trying too hard or not, but it was soothing to have familiar, nourishing things to do with my occasional bouts of fear earlier in the day and Walter and I will happily eat it all.
They finish up and share with me that they noticed the similarities in their given names William and Walter...the Ws, the Ls, the As.
As we ate the chicken, I asked Walter if he liked him and he said he loved him. I’m sure Bill feels the same. I had heard bits and pieces of their conversations along the way. I found myself then, and now, wanting to jump in and tell my own stories about all of it. I want to be known as a good mother and so there were things I wanted to explain or interjections I wanted to make so that story of good mothering would be the one people associate with me. I wanted Walter to be safe in the way that I understand safety...what was safe for me...what is most safe in the world the way I understand the world to be for us.
Because a complexity is a value for us, let’s also add that for me to perceived as a good mother feels both contradictory to his dad’s allegations and necessary for Walter’s creativity, exploration, and growth to continue. And regardless of how the next days unfold, I have been and always will be a part of making the world safer no matter how things play out in this particular social drama. The funny bit is that letting go of fear and control is what builds in safety for myself and those around me. Trusting that they saw and played with and talked about exactly what they needed to feels brave. Feels loving. Is safe.
