October 22, 2019
He was angry. He had been building a sandcastle and everytime he added a new spire, the waves washed another away.
But that is not why he was angry. He was angry at me.
“You don’t talk to me,” he pouted.
“Come sit with me,” I said.
“Why? Why now? All you have done is ignore me.”
“Please can we talk?”
The boy put down his small orange shovel and sat next me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You never gave up on me. Even during the most difficult times, you were there. You were the one lifting me up.”
I paused. “Remember when you were lost and couldn’t hear me calling you?’
“Yeah…” he said pausing.
“You are a lot stronger than you think. I abandoned you. I thought if I got good grades said all the right things, wore the right clothes, talked with the right people, people would like me, accept me.”
“I was only 13 years old. You left me alone to deal with everything while you went off to your fantasy land,” he cried.
I continued.
“You were only trying to protect me in the only way you knew how. I know this now”
“So you’re not mad at me?” he asked.
I put my arm around his shoulder.
“Mad? Not all. You did what you thought best and I love you for that.”
He wrapped his tiny arms around me.
“I love you too.”
“We’ll get through this,” I promised him. “It will be okay.”
