The circle of life

When the "button" was little, he LOVED the Lion King.  You know the drill, over and over and over again that vhs played. 

In the car, he had books on tape that he  read along, "Follow Rafiki, he knows the way."  He was obsessed.

It wasn't later in his young life, that he finally got the story.  The "button" only got the story because he watched The Lion King over and over again  with his younger siblings.  We have always told him that he was our "Simba" because we will certainly die someday and he will more than likely need to help raise his siblings.

Last week, Franklin and I went to visit the "button" at summer camp or fall semester.  It bothered me on the way there how we call one another and decide to go and stop on the way to get some books.  It has become a very casual visit.  No stress, just habit almost, like we are ordering a pizza.  We have even"figured" out the system, show up later, you get more time, don't have to hang out in the lobby with creepy folk and there are not as many people late in the hour so you get more time.  We have mastered summer camp.

My girlgriend who loved and lived in New York City stunned me when she told me she was moving back to her home town in upstate New York, more deer there than people.  Why? She told me that she walked over homeless people and it didn't even bother her anymore.  She was sooooo jaded and had accepted homeless people in her life and it didn't bother her anymore.

I was afraid that maybe Franklin and I needed to set up shop in Woodstock.  Were we jaded?  Had we accepted this situation a little too much?

The first time I went to summer camp, I couldn't get to see the "button".  The block was on "lockdown".  It was a good thing.  My Guardian Angel found me, took me into his office and I had a grand mal meltdown.  The kind of meltdown where you cry soooo hard you cannot breathe so you just start taking those HUGE gasps of air.  Thank goodness he is married and has a daughter.  I am sure that one time  in his life he has witnessed this.  I was not ready to go up there and see the "button."

Now, I have a parking spot, the lady knows me, I have his summer camp id number memorized and I actually have a seat that I prefer.  Pathetic. 

Despite a horrible three weeks in late October and November, I have emerged from the sea of despair like Ariel coming out of the water for a day on land.

I have accepted this situation, reluctantly,  but I have accepted the situation.  I have also embraced the goodness that has come from the situation.  My "Mom's Against Dumb Ass Decisions" has cast a new spell in my heart.  I am on a mission.

But, are we too accepting?

So, Franklin and I go upstairs for out visit.  The other family was wrapping up their visit and the mom is crying and touching the glass and the dad is just as somber as he can be and Franklin and I stand there.  Here comes the "button".  Immediately, Franklin and I are jumping up and down and high fiving at the glass.  Why such jubulation?  The "button" got a Haircut.  Oh, the simple things.  Apparently the old clippers broke.  The 'button" who is a germ-a-phobe would not go near the old clippers. Well, they broke from all the oil from the dredlocks.  The barber came to him first.  Gone was Beatle invading the USA  look-a-like "button", back was the "button".

We had a great visit.  Great visit.  Laughing, joking, just talking.  It was like we were sitting at home around the kitchen table, at Halloween (the orange, get it?).  All was great.

And then the guard came and hit the "button" on the shoulder. two minutes.  Franklin tells him to hang tough and "remember, you are the Simba".  "Get yourself together son, two little people are looking up to you and we are behind you."

The "button" gets up to leave and I dart around the corner.  Honestly, I cannot stand being there.  I realize that Franklin is not with me and I take two steps backward.  There is my husband, standing alone at the glass, all by himself, watching the "button" get escorted down, back, where ever he goes once he goes through that door.  I looked at my husband differently at that moment. 

He was still standing tall,looking at his son shaking his head with a tear coming out of one eye. 

He looked like Mufasa standing on Pride Rock. I cold almost hear Elton John singing, "can you feel the love tonight?".   He is still proud and still loves his son. 
His one little tear as that single sign that we are not jaded.  We are just understanding.  We are just doing anything we can to get our son back to the Pride land.

We walked back to our cars discussing the "button", how he looked, what he said and how he sounded. 
Franklin kissed me goodbye and we got back into our cars. Thirty seconds later, my husband calls me.
"It is going to be okay, he is going to be okay".

Akhuna Matada.