This picture came up in my Facebook memories today, and I started thinking about that time and this kid.
This was right about when things started coming unraveled, and while we'd always spent time together, Ant was being extra appreciative of his time with me. For Mother's Day that year, I came home to flowers and a clean house. It became apparent fast that it had all been orchestrated by Ant. He made Chris help him clean everything, not just one room. He went through the cupboards, wrote a grocery list, added flowers to it, and sent Chris to the store. Ant didn't tell me he did all that- Chris told me.
Of course, now I know that Chris was taking Ant along to go have dinner at his other girlfriend(s?) house, making him complicit. Ant was given this terrible secret to keep from me, and tried to keep that and make things nice between me and his dad for months. It was Ant who finally let me know that I was leaving. He was angry and yelling and it came right out while we were standing in the park. I let Ant leave with his friend, and I headed home to confront Chris. Ant called after me. "Please don't yell at him," he asked me. "Don't tell him it was me."
Ant and I used to bake cookies or breads together, and we did that a lot in those last few months, not knowing what would happen after I moved out. The last weekend I lived there, I told him to invite his best friend for a sleepover, thinking it might be a long time before they saw each other again, and it was. I got them junk food and movies, and the three of us took the dogs to the park. Ant and Bubba horsed around on the playground and rolled down the considerable hill. Then they plotted for a moment and came up to sit by me, but instead each grabbed an ankle and dragged me down the hill, all of us cracking up. They knew what was happening and gave special care to me that day, following my instructions the second time instead of the 15th and being adorable pests. I felt so much love from them and for them.
We are almost at the ten year anniversary of Ant's move to Nevada and into a hot glued family. The books were right- it took a couple years for us both to find our roles and learn to love each other. I thought I would have time to take him more places and teach him more things, but those five years hold a rock solid place in his heart. We are close now again, thanks to the six months he lived here and our regular dinners. We hold onto that pretty tightly, and now that we both have a say, I don't think we will ever lose our connection again.
At dinner this week, I started to say something about things going on in his life that started with "I worry," and cut myself off there and we both giggled. I'll worry about whatever it is- no need to elaborate. But this is a warm, loving soul who checks in with his great-grandmother and reminds me that I'd asked him to fix my DVD player. He's starting to learn the power of his inherited charm, but doesn't like the way his dad behaves towards women. He has his dad's mannerisms, but it's my voice he hears. We talk about the effects of addiction and how to be happy. We talk about what we learn from love gone wrong. I think he's understanding that what I want for him is to be happy, to go after the hard things, and to not hurt anyone, including himself. I'll worry the whole way, but I trust his path, and I am so grateful to have this kid who became my kid in my life.
We are both lucky.
