more than twenty two years ago i married a swiss. today i saw this same man with tears in his eyes. he had not seen our son for more than three years.
i was sitting around still in pajamas this afternoon when the phone rang, he asked if our son was around. i passed the phone to the other side of the house and after a few minutes, our dear son tells me that i better put some clothes on, he is going to be here within five minutes. he, the son, grinned and i jumped under the shower. i can take a shower like a cadet in 3 seconds flat, still by the time i was out, we already had guests at the door.
they, he and his second wife, did not get past the hallway, they were on their way to Crans Montana for skiing, and it was getting late. indeed, it was getting late if they still wanted to make it to Montana.
of all the men in my life, this one had the roughest time with me. the story of our divorce outstrips many a dramatic play in how two otherwise half reasonable people can make each other go through hell. this is one subject i have never touched in any of my writing, it is often at some level a meta inspiration, but never directly. but today, it was good to see that i was happy that he could see his son, and that the last minute drop by announcement did not bother me in the slightest bit.
i think he paid a rather high price for one mistake in his life. one moment that changed his life for ever, and the consequence of which was that our son was raised by me, and grown to be a wonderful young man without him seeing the small steps, the struggles, the conflicts, the little joys on the way. i can feel his tears, i share them. we have a wonderful son.
