JON, Aug 2016

I discovered this morning that I did not know how to hug my wife.

I mean, of course, I know how to go through the motions.

I knew it would be a good idea, and part of me wanted to, but still, I couldn’t do it.

We were standing in the doorway, I was ready to drive off to work. Carrie would take Emma and Michael to school by bus.

My son was very agitated, as usual, about going to his special school.

My daughter wasn’t exactly thrilled either, even though we got her into a new school that’s supposedly better than the old one.

She has made some new friends since she started sailing the dinghy up at the lake.

We do have some rare break-time today, in the afternoon. I mean, I have to work but Anna, the latest babysitter, will come over.

I don’t mean anything by “babysitter,” but Michael is seven and, due to his autism, he needs more than anything else someone who can take care of him like he was … But that’s another story.

It works well with Anna, so there will be a little break. I wouldn’t have to stress much to get home.

And when I come home maybe Carrie has not freaked out during the day. I’m afraid that will happen again.

I can see those pills we bought just a couple of weeks ago have already been used up, and that’s not a good thing.

So, there were a lot of good reasons to hug. But I didn’t reach out.

Is it because we don’t have sex very often? Hey, I can live with that.

And it does help that Carrie’s mom flies in from Los Angeles every other week to be there, and we get a chance to go out at least.

Deborah wasn’t very understanding about autism in the beginning. She had her own ideas about how to deal with Michael. I think she has come to accept what he needs now.

And what he needs now is not some kind of pretense that, if only we encourage him enough, he can act like other kids. Another seven-year-old … that’s not going to happen.

I mean, he can get more capable, obviously, but we needs to help him the right ways, and patience and all that.

So, beating around the bush, yeah. And here I am, on routine patrol and looking at nothing in particular, just waiting for another call.

Down Interstate 8 and just the vast expanse before the mountains, and the little dots that make up for vegetation.

And I’m thinking about that hug. What happened?

I used to do that, even though we both knew it was just something we had to do.

Am I growing numb inside? Has all this stress finally gotten to me?

Am I becoming a goddamn robot?

To be honest, I have no idea, maybe it’s just a fluke, but I don’t like it.

It’s a good thing that unless I get a call from Central about a traffic accident I have to attend to in five minutes, nothing in particular is going on out here.

Plenty of space for your thoughts.

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Cover Photo by Pierre Jeanneret on Unsplash

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60-060624

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Song: Iron & Wine – “Fever Dream”

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