Monday 2 May 2011

Second to the right, and straight on till morning.

Did I disappoint you
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without
(Sometimes living for adventure can be tough. Sometimes I'm not even the one with the drama and I become a sticking-plaster to the boys, the ferociously affectionate soft spot where they land. The comfort-girl who will soothe their cares away. They are the lost boys, and I am their Wendy.)

Sam is going down Jacob's road of currently feeling quite out of love with his church. Railing against the hierarchy for putting administration before one's ability to be efficient in the role of a minister when one has personal needs. And yet I can see both sides here. Sam is new to this church, having been a part of it for a single year. Others can manage their midlife or existential crises without needing time off, they simply implode in and around their scheduled tasks. The church does not allow for personal reflection unless it is work-related, and what most people never fully realize is that ministers are often given a plate so full that they simply collapse under the weight and learn to operate at sixty percent of themselves and sometimes they simply walk away.

You know, like Jacob did.

Sam was gifted with a wedding invitation this week. We all were. We don't burn too many bridges. Most of the people I despise I greet quite professionally (Satan, Sophie, etc. etc.) and the boys are even better at it. But this wedding invitation came from Sam's wife. Elisabeth. Since he steadfastly refuses to call her his 'ex'. Hope springs eternal, but when their divorce went through after magnificent efforts to try and salvage their relationship, she promptly became engaged to someone else.

Sam has not reacted well. He's crushed but realistic. He's called in sick and shown up drunk and done everything people do when confronted with the concept of moving on. I hope he weathers it better this week than he did last week. He is still waiting to see if he can have a little vacation time, now that he has a year in. The problem is, he probably will not get it. And the drunk part sort of surprised me because Sam has the better part of a decade of wonderful recovery that he always managed well and spoke candidly about, besides. He was a good role model for Benjamin, and the surprise and disappointment rings loudly through my house right now.

*****

PJ has had a crisis as well this week, only his snuck up on us slowly over the weekend to the point where last time I saw him, Lochlan had him in a headlock and was forcing him to promise to go home and NOT SAY ANOTHER WORD until he was out of my hearing range. Which I suspect is around four feet, but only if you are facing me.

Because when PJ runs out of patience, I am always his target. I have been positively crushed under the weight of his feelings, bottled up and poured out quietly, after the kids are asleep or at the very least out of earshot. Even though when we moved here I specifically made him take the boathouse so that he could have his own separate life, privacy, whatever he needed. Sometimes (as I point out quite regularly), it isn't enough.

But no worries. We have a major argument roughly every twelve to fourteen months and then we settle back into step together and this particular one seems to be waning so call it a Monday and let's get on with it.