Tonight we went out for an early dinner, and I could not convince the boy to tear his eyes away from the iPod. Usually he will at least look out the window at the cows on the hillside. Nothing doing. He met my eyes and said with frustration, “Mom, I am just too afraid of the world.”
“It’s just since 2009, when I was 14 and I saw the dates.”
“Here, let me show you.”
He taps gently, furiously, and precisely on my phone, spending a lot of time on the Wurdle app, and then hands it back to me and sighs.
“Never mind, I can’t find it.” But then he takes it back and opens the calendar. Nothing remarkable.
“Dates. Birthdays. Worrying about death.” He hands back the phone and puts his earbuds back in.
This is the beauty of blogging. I can go back to the summer of 2009 and see what I wrote – because the dates and the fear and this specific kind of withdrawal were all new to us then. But even after reading what I wrote then I don’t really know why all of those fears showed up today or how long they will stay – it could be as simple as the disruption of a half day at school or the disappearance of his memory bracelet from his dead friend. Or perhaps it is the big birthday that is coming up soon – or maybe it’s my worry about that reflected on him. He has my feelings before I do sometimes, I think.
Spring is coming; we’ll figure it out.