Route 2; Memories Along The Road
The importance that the time of a 4 week summer holiday together was unprecedented. Simple things like sitting at the table having breakfast, together. To experience going out to restaurants, going shopping together, or just simple things like staying home, making dinner together watching movies or engaging in pertinent conversations son’s to their father, they were full of surprises.
My youngest son is quite an amazing, thoughtful, young teen, handsome, engaging, quite creatively intelligent, he has it all. He comes with a package filled with surprise and joy. When he wants to share his ideas you can always be surprised. He took my hand and whispered quietly, “ I want to tell you something, I would like to talk with you.” I smiled at him, as he guided me into the other room.
This was between us, he was sharing his secrets with me, and wanted no ones ears but mine; while his brother was in the living room, gaming on Playstation. In his own pedantic young self, he was quite serious about this secret, he was about to tell. He quietly began explaining to me that he had been thinking, about this idea that he wanted to develop or design for a long time. He asked me for feedback about it.
I was listening intently, he told me this is confidential and not tell anyone. I promised to keep his secret and encouraged him. We got some paper, and worked on some sketches and discussed in detail practical aspects of developing his project. I thought it was a brilliant invention, praising him more, adding to his confidence for already inventing something that could be something for the future.
I guess that’s the beauty of father to son, he shared his inner world, was asking for advice, his hopes, concerns, dreams, wishes and desire for his future. These invaluable experiences , creative bonding and unconditional love, brings hopes and inspiration ultimately… Now the summer is over they go back to living in another town, having another life. I am sure they have mixed emotions, it’s not easy for them too.
Route 1; Memories along the back road.
Another hot day; everyday the sun and it`s unusual nature or presence in these parts of northern Europe, to my son’s remembrance and I; the sun blazed on. In the past, mild winds and temperatures above 15 degrees Celsius and rain were commonly accepted here as summer .
We sat in the living room after a late afternoon, deciding whether to venture out into the hot sun, or stay at home in the shade. At 5 pm., it felt like the hottest day on earth, in the middle of July. The longest, hottest days of the summer with that endless frontal assault of a incessant burning sun. I gave them ice creams, keeping them cool, and out we went into the summer festival activities, we were in the center of town. Bustling colorful crowds, bands and music, kids playing, in the parks people were partying, the place was alive; it was summer solace.
We emerged navigating our way through the crowds, pausing but not taking any standing position. It was a reminder of the old times when they were younger, and they weren’t as less mobile and more dependent. Quick they had changed gears and wanted to go shopping. We went to some of the town’s more popular stores, they knew looking through the so-called latest fashion’s. But that didn’t last long. They were far more sophisticated and particular; these stores Dad, are no longer popular with us. I don’t like the clothes, no, no, no… I don’t think so, they exclaimed…
My young teens voiced their opinions, they had departed from the yes to no. Understanding that they have now developed their own style. In their own charming way, they said, “Just hand over some cash, and weI’ll do our own shopping”… I was amused, and that’s what exactly what I did, I left them and told them that, dinner would be ready round 8 pm; any request?
My 15 year old has acquired an affinity for Japanese food, and you guessed it! He loves sushi, so I had to make and to prepare two different genres of dinner as my 13 year had another request, which was pizza, but of course he wanted it with my special touch…Off they went together, shopping… Hour’s later they came home with 3 pairs of pants and pleased by their skills as teenage boys, they even had saved some money… I had lived up to my part of the deal, making 2 distinctly different genres of cuisine. Sushi, for my 15 yr old, and Pizza for the 13 yr old.
The table elegantly set, candles, porcelain white plates, silverware, beverages, conversations and laughter, another long hot summer day ends, talking about how shopping was the highlight of their day.
It doesn’t get any better than that! 😉
A phone communicate…
The last time I heard from my 13 year old was a week, 3 weeks later; he asks me:
If I had seen the moon, did you take a picture of it? And that he had seen 3 shooting stars when he was away in Denmark. And to make sure that I took a picture of the moon..
Another beautiful summer day in the land of the midnight sun, the heat would not relent. It was one of the hottest summer in memory, of this small city nestled among 7 mountains.
The hot air trapped, high above. Air conditioning was nothing short of a fantasy. Hence the land of the arctic circle crosses its borders, greeting every summer with 24 hour sunlight. With all its glorious, effluent hypnotically red, golden, orange, blue green, textures, performing nighttime sky dances.The Aurora Borealis midnight light endlessly dazzles us with a eternal beautiful light show. Where the sunset and twilight meet but, never set.
Hot and heat, not synonymous, but the antithesis of rain, 250 days of the year. Things have changed, and it’s time to wake-up, again. A bright oblique warm sunlight, intrusive beckoning our call, weather worn from the heat of the previous day, it was another hot steamy morning. To our pleasure or displeasure we were engaged in our own significance of enjoying this new change in weather.
My young teen son, awoke sweating and talking gibberish. I could`t quite discern what he was saying because he was talking and sleepwalking at the same time, something he’s been doing during his early years. I observed him intently sitting quietly on the sofa. While trying to catch the morning breeze, that scantily or barely blew through my terrace door. I heard him call out:” Dad, Dad! You know what I was dreaming?” Watching his disconcertment, I Immediately got up from the sofa, embraced him to calm him down.
His eyes wide eyed shut, and mumbling… He went on about some fantastical story of being kidnapped, and running as fast as he could. And then he got away, but some friends he was with, got caught. Then he came back to help them get away…It was amazing to listen to his young imaginative dream state. He had an emphaticness about his story that was believable, as he was convincing me it was real. After a short while he was more alert and started laughing. I told him he was sleepwalking, but his story was very interesting, one that had good intrigue and characters. One he should make an outline on paper and develop it, because sometimes dreams become the stuff they make stories of, into movies. He immediately got some paper and started writing it down.
These are moments of when father’s and son’s share a special bond, that form shape and develop memories like dreams forever….
Summer Days, With My Boys.
The warm summer morning sunshine, peered through my apartment window in the middle of town. A new beginning.
It`s 6:00 am and the early morning sounds of seagulls screeched wildly, as they fought for early morning spoils. While the sun rose its head easterly without a cloud to hinder, nor complete with its emerges. It was truly a perfect crystal blue sky… That special summertime, morning air…Somehow my young teen son’s laid stretch out in their beds; still life, quietly sleeping like two pieces of perfect sculpture carved by Michelangelo. Symmetrically beautiful, horizontally laid-out and at rest, a midst all the seagull’s squalling… they slept through it all.
I was making a classical American traditional breakfast for them, quietly as possible knowing how much they love it…crispy bacon, sunny side up-eggs, toast, and fresh squeezed orange juice, before they woke up. It was such a delight to be with my son’s again, like old times, but with a new and improved twist: I stood there at the edge of their, bed observing their perfect elongated muscular physics, structures they had grown exponentially.Not a sound or movement, they were in another world, a beautiful place, no morning rush, or stress on early school mornings.
The long hot summer lazy days lumbered along, slowly but surely my 2 young son’s slept in late that morning. If they don’t wake up soon, I guess I’ll just have breakfast alone and let them sleep.
Time; so precious, how lucky are we to be together as Father and Son’s…
When boys become teens, they start to ask questions… I distinctly recall the battle of separation and the pain it was inflicting on the boys. I knew it was very difficult for them being separated, from their father. The loyalty of both parents was another reality. In this conflict, I never had custody of any of my Son’s. This is something that was unbelievable. I had to fight for their rights and mine as a father.
There was that deep division between the mother and father, they really were too young to understand the depth of this breakup, but it was effecting them on so many emotional and psychic levels. All I wanted was to be a father to my son’s. To have their voices being heard. Usually in these cases between parents revenge are tools that make it difficult for the courts to grasp and to fully interpret, the gravity or intention of one of the parties. Parental Alienation syndrome (PAS) have in recent research been recognized to be a factor at display in cases where one of the parents have a high conflict struggle…Still making it difficult for the court to decide the children’s voice, to be heard in such cases.
After the long process of interviews by professionals and of mediation between two parents, the mother always wins, even when the children say what they want. Instead there are the power’s that contradict or interpret what they mean in their own intellectual professional analytic and legal authority. This is what children experience in conflict between 2 parents and a system that supports mothers and not necessarily what is best for the children. Where the best for the kids seems to be coinciding with what is best for the mother, which is far from the reality in most cases. So the questions are, are children in conflict between 2 loving parents, are their voices really heard? I have been fighting for their rights and as a father since 2008. Although some compromises were mediated in this case, the boys and I have been granted 4 summer weeks vacation FOR THE FIRST TIME , IN TWO COURT CASES. It`s late, but is a start.
A Summer`s Gift
The summer of 2014. The morning sun was blazing bright hot at 11:15. Waiting, anxiously at the central Bergen bus terminal, for my two beautiful young teenage boys. A 4 week holiday we would spend together. Finally the bus rolls in and among the crowd they stand out, like two strong tall trees, stretching up to the sky..Wow! They have changed… no more little boys, this is another stage, another level… my son’s were becoming young men.
They exited the crowd, collecting there bags. You could see the expression of excitement and anticipation on their faces, it had been a long period apart, a short pause, smiles, and then we all embraced one another. This was simple. This was a long Love lost, that finally had given us time to reconnect and unite, after that void of space and time. Together again.
In that brief instance there was no time, no separation, the silence, the love that poured out between us in this moment, was a moment forever in time.
For the next four weeks the most important thing was to give them as much security and love, and listen to them; their wishes, their needs, their dreams…