Songs For Your Mother Gordon MacMillan (good books for 7th graders .txt) 📖

myself to my feet. Luke and I stand and look at each other down the shopping aisle and the two women behind us finish picking up the chocolate. I apologise for the chaos and the mess, and they smile. The older woman tells me not to worry and that I’ll get there eventually. I nod at this, no longer entirely convinced by her words.

I walk towards Luke, and stop just in front of him. He does not run away this time.

‘Shall we go and buy some food, then?’ I ask him.

Luke nods and doesn’t say anything. I hold out my hand to him, and he gingerly takes it. We go to the front of the store, and I pick up a basket, and we walk up and down the aisles filling it with food. As we walk, people give us the odd glance and I know that they are trying to work out what happened. That’s the question they are asking themselves. They are trying to ascertain the root of the problem, and they are asking themselves ‘what kind of father allows his child to carry on like that?’ They are drawing their own conclusions and painting their family album. The truth is, most people don’t have much of an idea at all of what is going on right in front of their eyes. All I can think is that most people don’t know anything at all.

When we leave the store with a couple of carrier bags in hand, we collect Luke’s bike. He stands by it, looking like he is no longer sure what to do with it. His enthusiasm for his bike has now gone. This wasn’t how I was expecting #newbikeday to end.

At home, I make Luke a sandwich and give him an orange juice, and I turn on children’s TV. I did think for a while about calling TSP and asking whether I should be withdrawing TV privileges or taking any other punitive parental-like measures? I don’t do this as the whole idea sounds like way too much trauma for a day that’s already been drama heavy and profoundly draining. I sit with him as we eat lunch, and ask him if he likes the channel and he shrugs. I change it a couple of more times until we hit some Spider Man and he nods, and I leave it on that.

I give Luke some space; at least, this is what I tell myself. I know the truth is that it is me as much as Luke, who needs the distance. I head into my room and flop down on the bed as sharp silver streams of winter sunlight flood my room. I’m wondering how today compared to the experiences of other parents? For me, today felt like a struggle and like my first time. I know I didn’t come through it unscathed. Neither of us did.

I remember what Lauren wrote in her notes. She talked about how there would be good days and bad days, and then I can see her standing there.

There are always going to be days when it is so hard you don’t think you can do it and when you don’t think that you can go on, Lauren says.

I run my hands up over my face and through my hair and nod. I knew it was going to be tough, but what happened in the supermarket knocked the wind out of me. I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was making progress when the truth is, I’m not. It took me unawares.

Maybe I haven’t been paying attention to what’s going on right in front of my eyes. Maybe cracks have been present since the beginning, and that I, with help from my friends, have been papering over them. Covering the cracks is no longer working. There’s a problem here, and I’ve no idea how to fix it.

I try to think if I could’ve done something differently, that could’ve stopped today descending into the car crash that it became? Although, when I try to pinpoint what that something might be, I’ve no answer. Should I have let him take his bike into the store? I really don’t know. I need a TSP debrief.

‘I wasn’t ready for it, at least that’s what I think it was,’ I say. ‘Maybe I’m never going to be ready for it. Today was a surprise and not the good kind.’

Some of those surprises are going to be good, and some of them won’t be. That’s kind of part of the deal, part of the parent package. On the bad days you have to pick yourself off the floor, dust yourself down, and get back in the saddle, Lauren says.

I nod at these words, as it is good advice. I know Lauren has been through this. I’ve read all about it in the pages that she sent me, only I’m not entirely sure now that this is enough. That doing what I’m doing is enough. At least it is starting to feel that way. But then what else is there? The answer is that I don’t know. One thing I’m sure of is that he misses his mother too much. It isn’t only Luke. It’s me as well. I miss Lauren, and my heart aches for her. Not only for her physical presence, for the chance that we lost to be with Luke together as a family.

Chapter 19

On Monday morning, after being sullen and withdrawn on Sunday, Luke is livelier. He’s closer to his old self, although he still isn’t talking all that much. When, at eight-fifteen, the buzzer to the flat sounds, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s like a weight is about to lift as I know that TSP is arriving to take Luke to school.

And, yes, I’m thinking TSP is going to take Luke off my hands. I don’t like myself for thinking this, I really don’t. But I need a break, and I’m relieved he’s going to school. The pressure