Pointless Trips

My wife's ex-husband spoke with her about their children's Christmas break. Both boys were present for the conversation.
"They're supposed to come back to my house on Monday night," he said to her. "And then they're supposed to go back to you on Thursday. If you want to, we could flip-flop weekends, and they could stay with you through Thursday night. That way, they won't have to pack up and move all their stuff on Monday night, just to bring it back 2 days later."
My wife asked her boys.
They thought that was a good idea.
My wife agreed to this.

Then...
Without reason, he took it back.
She asked why.
He said he didn't have to explain himself.
He didn't tell the boys that he was changing his mind.
He didn't tell the boys why he was changing his mind.
And after a few emails, it was still unclear as to why he offered and then rescinded the offer.
He never told anyone anything.

So the boys are, understandably, grumpy as they pack up their stuff on Monday night.
They don't understand why they are being moved from one house to another house when they had been told they wouldn't have to do that.
They are wondering why they aren't consulted about their moves.
They are wondering. Period.
And there are no answers anyone can give them, except to tell them that their father does not explain himself and has no reason for acting the way he acts.
Of course, we don't say this out loud.
But they know it.
Because it's as obvious as the seasons.
Nobody has to tell you when it's winter.
If there's snow on the ground, you pretty much figure it out.

So our 15-year old is tying his shoes.
A year ago, he wasn't able to tie his shoes.
Now he does this willingly, because he's got cool boots he likes wearing.
And he's tying his shoes and grumping.
"I don't know why we have to leave here," he grumps, gingerly making the bunny ears with the fingers of somebody who knows what they're doing but don't feel confident in doing it without thinking about it yet. "This is stupid. I mean, we're leaving here today and we're coming back in 2 days. I don't get it."
I can hear the frustration in his voice, and I long for that to go away.
I know how it feels to be frustrated.
I know how it feels to have questions needing to be answered, yet there are absolutely no answers anyone can give.
I know how it feels to live in that limbo of confusion and an endless well of questions.
And I know there's no way to explain that things will get better as time passes.
And I know there's no way to tell him that he will make peace with the confusion and questions.
I know there's nothing I can do to comfort him directly.
I can't give answers that will bring satisfaction.
And I struggle with wanting to make him feel better and having absolutely no way of doing so.
He continues to grump as his long fingers lankily and shakily pull the bunny ears around each other.
"This is the most pointless trip I've ever taken in my life!"
"You're still young," I quip playfully. "You're gonna have lots of pointless trips in your life."

And I see him look up at me and smile.
And I feel my shoulders relax.
And I realize I did it.
I did the best I could.
I cannot give you answers.
But I can give you peace in this moment.
That's why I love doing what I'm supposed to do.
I'm a performer.
I'm a funny-guy.
I may not cure your pains, but I can give you peace right now.

And his mind is off his troubles.
And we're laughing about how horrible it would be if there was a man who never made a pointed trip in his whole life. If every trip he made was a pointless trip, how horrible would that be. He would never get anything done! And he would always feel awful! And he laughs. And I laugh. And he relaxes. And he hugs me. And he leaves, smiling to the ground.

Somedays, I'm an OK parent.
I want to remember those days-- those days when I do good.
Those are the days I don't just do well, I do good.
Those days when I give smiles and laughs to those closest to me.
Somedays, I'm an OK parent.