PJ, Dotty and Igor

It’s been a challenging week.  My last update was a bit stiff because there’s a lot on my mind.  But tonight, there was a moment that meant to set some things right again, and so I thought I’d ramble.

I’ve been sitting here thinking about PJ.  And it strikes me that the vitriol that came out of him during our rather volatile conversation was about everything he didn’t want to say.  I’ve been considering that a lot and we’ve talked again and we’ll talk more. But he seems much more settled tonight.

From the very beginning, I’ve taught the boys the power of why.  I’ve told them to ask that question, always and in every case.  When someone is angry with you, for example, set aside your defenses and ask the question.  The answer could change the world. Otherwise, it becomes too easy to live inside our own heads, with our own ideas, feelings and beliefs.  It’s how we become isolated, without ever knowing it. 

With my PJ, I always ask why, and I would that night.  And I think it’s because he’s so damned honest that the answers are never hard to find.  He needed to be heard; he needed, for his mother’s sake, to make it known that she was. 

Moving on is part of the greater plan and its human.  It’s also human to fall out of pace, and I think PJ has.  He was her baby.  I think he sees the love I share with Dotty in a way that’s similar to what he knew and I think it scares him.  I think he sees me changing, Zach changing, and I think he feels left behind.  He just needs a minute.  He needs to be assured that we haven’t forgotten.

The other side of him wants me to be happy, wants Zach and Jon and Dotty to be happy, and so he’s played along.  Nobody should ever have to do that.  I didn’t know the girth of his tension and I should have.  It’s why I provoked him to say the things he needed to say and I’m very glad he has.

The anger is harder to understand because it’s so precarious against the fragility of feelings.  My Dot is very fragile for the position she’s in and because she so afraid of hurting him.  But I told her that his anger in the moment was simply a conveyance for the frustration he feels.  Maybe I wasn’t sure of that then, but tonight I know I’m right.  It’s not Dotty he was angry with, or even me.  He was robbed – full stop - we all were.  I think that’s worth a pout.

The morning after our conversation, he asked me if I spoke with Dotty and it was obvious that he was concerned that I had.  He asked me what I said.  Clearly, he didn’t want her to be hurt.

PJ is terribly sweet and inherently kind.  I never forget that, even when he’s screaming at me. 

Dotty shares these qualities and her heart is always right.  She’s been happier than ever before – she said so just that morning.  And yet she’s willing to step aside at the thought of hurting my son.  It’s why it was so easy for me to say no – that’s not happening. 

The matter has exposed some preexisting vulnerabilities between Dot and me, there’s no doubt.  But none of them are new.  One must consider the unusual nature of our little world and make the appropriate allowances, and I believe we are.  I, for example, have moments when I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.  I’m still mourning Suzanne and maybe I always will.  But it’s not the same now.  More and more, I find myself falling in love again, even when that should never have been possible.  But I’m gonna let it happen just the same, and I told her that.

Anyway, the reason I’m typing this tonight is because there was a moment.  You know I love those.  So of course I had to tell you about it.

You see, this evening, somewhere after dinner, Dotty went off to ready herself for the night.  It’s a ritual with her – she has her routine.  When she reemerges, it’s always in her pink bathrobe and matching slippers.

I was in the kitchen then, with the older boys and one rather preoccupied PJ.  I know him too well.  I know when he’s “waiting.”  I knew something was up.

A moment later, we heard her scream and I watched my son laugh.  Initially, Jon was alarmed, but when he looked over at the other boys, he must have realized. 

“Did you hang Igor in her closet?” I asked him.  PJ, through his rapid giggle, would nod and say, “I did.”

Igor is a Halloween mannequin that PJ customized to appear more lifelike - or deathlike, as it were.  I have memories of climbing into my car at six in the morning, setting the gear to back out of the garage and turning to see this mutant sitting in the back seat.  It’ll stop your heart and PJ’s giggle is never far behind.

Dotty bounded into the kitchen as PJ ran from her.  She chased him around the island, swatting a towel at him and calling him a “little shit.”  It’s not interesting that she immediately knew it was his doing – it’s always PJ.

Later, when we were alone, I said to Dot, “You do understand-“and that’s as far as I got before she interrupted me with a smile.  “I know.” She said.

If you ever come for a visit here on the farm and you find Igor hanging in your closet, it only means that PJ loves you.  And that’s what he wanted to tell her. 

He’s a weird kid.