Yesterday was a good day. A monkey on our back was cut right down in size, and though this was explained to The Boy (for he has felt it, as we all have), and although he gave his Mum a hug, I doubt whether he yet understands the collective weight that was unburdened. And nor should he, he is only eight years old after all.
But I was so pleased with him, and for him. I gifted him the Simon's Cat book - important, as I felt it was, to mark the day somehow. He was pleased and gave implausibly emphatic thanks.
Earlier in the day, his mother had spoken the words:
'No, you don't need to give me a moment, I'm going to cry through this anyway', as good news was detailed.
At bed time, The Boy and I flicked through about half of the Simon's Cat book, recognising many of the wry illustrations.
And after reading a couple of chapters of The Fire Thief, we chatted for a while. We talked about how when you're a child, it's hard to imagine who you might meet later in your life - which new friends you'd make between the ages of eight, and say... thirty four and exactly one half. This chat led to his explaining that Daddy would like to get married, and that he uses match dot com - for meeting new people and for setting up dates. Feigning naivety, I asked questions, listened, and suggested examples of what my profile might look like on match dot com.
The Boy: It'll find people for you who like the same stuff as you. So you put in things like... your favourite colour -
The Boy: Mm. And... what you like -
Shane: Chicken in gravy.
The Boy: (hesitantly) If you like.
Shane: Mm. But what if all of the other people who like chicken in gravy live in... Africa?
The Boy: You have to put in where you live as well.
Shane: Oh. Is it best to meet people who like the same stuff as you?
The Boy: Yeah.
Shane: Is that so that you can go to a restaurant that you both like?
The Boy: (sighs, rolls his eyes) Something like that. You can put the light out now.
Shane: Alright. See you in the morning.
The Boy: 'night.
He slept soundly. I didn't... the residual thought of what might have been.
The next week or two should see some relaxing of the mind, and the shoulders.