LadyBohemia — Everyday Poesie RSS

...one being my youngest son teaching me chess <3. Well, more honestly, having him kick my ass at chess.

He has a wonderful logical mind, not quite so directly inherited from me I suspect, and the sweetest spirit of sportsmanship. Neither of us wants the other one to loose, so whatever we play, it lasts forever as we give each other tips and freebies.

Luca learned so much about chess during that awful summer when his beloved grandmother had gone through radical cancer surgery, and needed mostly to recover in bed. Independent in spirit, competitively sporty, highly social and intellectually vivid person that she is, making her stay (or at least lie down occasionally) in bed was my responsibility for the summer.  Well, chess she loved. That summer, she introduced that love to Luca. They enrolled in daily chess matches, sitting on Mamie's bed, discussing strategy... I think he was only five at the time.

Me for my part, I know nothing. Where can this button go, I ask, and immediately forget.

But in Madeira last month, they had this wonderful life size chess board at the hotel, and Luca challenged me every day. Well, many times ever day.

We became known at the hotel as the mother-son chess team as other visitors came to watch my mistakes and his attempts to save my game... My favorite was when he asked me "Maman, I've never seen moves like this... Do you have a strategy behind this?".

Needless to say, none whatsoever.

My son was sweet enough to find that interesting <3.

Well, doing just about anything with him would go down on my list of my favorite thins to do *<3~...

~*~

The sweetest moment I can remember was offered to my love and I on our first real family trip.

As we sat down for dinner, my son Joel took Kalle by the hand, looked at him in the eyes and simply stated: "Best friends".

Kalle and I looked at each other, both literally moved to tears, but the kids thought nothing of it. That's just the way it is.

[caption id="attachment_15583" align="aligncenter" width="522"] The trust only a child's eyes can behold <3[/caption]

Beautiful.

~*~

I just called my youngest son in France.

Me: "How are you my sweetie?"

Him: "But what's going on with you Maman???"

Me: "I'm fine of course, just wanted to hear how you're feeling..."

Him: "If everything's okay with you Maman, then everything is okay with me."

(Jos sulla on kaikki hyvin äiti niin sitten mullakin on.)

He is nine years old.

Every parent - well, every sensible human being - knows what's so deeply wrong about this conversation.

[caption id="attachment_15562" align="aligncenter" width="397"] Nothing beats exploring with my wise little man.[/caption]

~

[caption id="attachment_15563" align="aligncenter" width="397"] Meat eating plant! Yeahhhhhh![/caption]

~

[caption id="attachment_15564" align="aligncenter" width="397"] "Come this way Maman, I'll show you where to step..."[/caption]

My baby, grown too big too soon.

~*~

There we were in Madeira, surrounded by eight (EIGHT!) pools, spa facilities, tennis court, minigolf... And the great topic on my darlings' minds were spiders (Madeira is the lucky home of Europe's largest spiders...). So the boys had an agenda of capturing one 20 cm long monster, secretly bringing it to the hotel... In the hope it would make baby spiders for us. You can only guess how popular this idea was amongst my love and I.

[caption id="attachment_15549" align="aligncenter" width="600"] My determined baby[/caption]

Well, as this plan turned out slightly complicated to implement, they shifted to ants. More specifically, building an ant farm. My older son studied everything there is to know about ants in this world - now his plan is to capture a queen ant, bring it home and start a terrarium. He was thrilled to discover the queen ant can live up to 30 years, all along multiplying the size of the nest... What other future plans does one need...

[caption id="attachment_15550" align="aligncenter" width="397"] The no-nonsense brother[/caption]

I tried to say no in a million ways - and then some - but he is just too sweet in his arguments... Quoting books  'Owning pets grows a child a sense of responsibility, I sure could use some'... If he studies very hard all next year, could I then reward him with the farm next summer... He will pay all the costs from his weekly allowance... He has always wanted a pet, yet can't have anything cute and furry as I'm allergic - therefore he is generous in compromising with the ant farm... And the worst point of them all - I had promised he could choose something he really loves for his birthday. And now this is the one thing he really loves.

That did me in. Can you believe it, I promised.

Next summer, if he still loves the idea of ants, we will take shared custody of them with my ex husband (they will live with HIM but I have to take care of the buggers when Serge and the boys are on holidays). They take darn many holidays.

Okay I hear I am the best mother in the world. Definitely one of the most desperate.

I just wanted to hang around the eight pools... And somehow ended up in a soup. Argh.

At the moment of my divorce, I had nothing. I was forced to stay in my former home, now having become my ex-husband's home, for months after the break up, without even funds for a rent deposit or a moving van. A period of despair and loneliness.

Until the most unexpected happened. When my father passed away, he left me an inheritance in the form of the family's summer place. My mother swore to never sell it - they had owned it for some 30+ years and absolutely loved the place. Then four years after we had lost dad - that very summer of my divorce - she suddenly announced it was time to let go . The place was sold. And I was saved. Was finally able to find a home for myself, a safe place where I and the loves of my life, my two little boys, could recover and find some solace.

At that moment in time I got a most simple and clear sense of my father's hand reaching for me, pulling me through when I had no more strength left in myself.

And a déjà vu reflection of another moment between my father and I, some 17 years earlier. A Christmas dinner for our family with some friends of my parents... Friends who started showing photos of our traditional dinner from previous year. In each picture, there were me and an ex-boyfriend - the wound from that separation was still bleeding raw. I went through picture after picture and to my horror, my eyes welled up. I so didn't want to cry in this company, none of them were very kind people. I swallowed my tears the hardest I could... Nobody noticed I think... Until my dad sitting opposite to me at the end of the big table winked me to come after him. He pulled me to the other room and just hugged me without saying a word. Confronted by his kindness, I was no longer able to fight my tears.

Nothing was said. It was the only time I remember him hugging me as an adult.

And now, even from the other side, he managed to send me a strong hug bringing me to safety, at a moment when I was most shattered and torn.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss him.

I don't even have a single photo of us two together since my childhood... But it's okay.

I remember everything.

~*~