Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Lights On Christmas Eve

 Early in the evening of December 24th I bundled up against the freezing cold, leashed up my bouncing and excitedly barking dog, and headed out to walk in downtown Cody.
Although we have been embedded in a snow-melt cycle for a couple of months as fall begrudgingly transitioned to winter, it now appears that winter is here to stay for a while.
Probably a long while.
There was snow on the ground as Kory and I headed out, and I was gratified to realize that we would have a white Christmas.
It would be a quiet Christmas this year.
Still homeless.  Still holding up in an off-season rental.  Knowing very few people in this beautiful small town.  Away from family...............

I called Chris not long before we left Idaho, spoke with him once we arrived in Wyoming and then we didn't speak again until the end of November.
I called him the morning of his birthday (November 21) and the phone just kept ringing.
I tried multiple times to contact my son that day, to no avail but at some point I think I realized that his phone had been disconnected.
 Damn him.  He knew I'd call him on his birthday.
Searching online I found his step-sisters' Face Book page and (although I had never contacted her before) sent her a message asking if she had heard from Chris recently and if she had a current phone number for him.
We had the same phone number for him and no.........she had not heard from him in a few months.
Apparently the wayward man-child hadn't been returning her text messages just as he rarely returns my phone messages.
She was worried about him.
Yeah.  
Me too............

After some back and forth brainstorming two women who were strangers to each other agreed that she would keep sending texts and I would send an email.
I did send Chris an email.  Actually I sent him two.
The first simply said "Call me.  I can't get in touch with you".
The second said that if I didn't hear from him within 24 hours I would be calling every Wal-mart in Calgary (which was the last known employment for him), and if I had no luck tracking him down that way I would be calling the Calgary Police.
Had something happened to him?  Had he changed his phone number?  Was he even still in Calgary?
I didn't know, but with Chris anything was possible.
24 hours later I had not received a phone call nor a response to my email, and I called every Wal-mart in Calgary.  
All 12 of them.
Some immediately told me that Chris didn't work at that store.  Some told me they couldn't release that information.  Some went straight to a voice mail box.
By mid morning of the 23rd I had had enough.
I called the Calgary Police Department.
I had deleted his address from my text messages so didn't have Chris' current address.  
They tracked him down through the DMV, promised to do a welfare check on him and an hour later an officer called me to let me know that Chris was fine.
The 23rd was Thanksgiving here in the US, and half way through the Thanksgiving lunch that we were sharing with our Cody friend, I received a phone call.
It wasn't his number but it was his area code and I handed my phone to LC.
"You take it.  I don't want to talk to him".................

As LC got up from the table and walked towards the hallway I could hear him talking to my beloved son.
I didn't realize just how angry I was at him until the moment he called me..........

10 minutes after leaving the table LC unexpectedly handed the phone back to me.
I started with "I love you, but you're a fucking asshole" and then spent the next 10 minutes pacing the floor in the hallway and climbing up one side of Chris and down the other.
I was angry for a whole lot of reasons and angrily laid them all out for him.
Finally I was done, the phone went quiet and Chris simply said "I'm sorry mom".
The next 10 minutes went the way phone conversations between mother and son are supposed to go.
I love you.  I miss you.  I wish we were together during this holiday.  I love you.
I love you...................

On this very cold and very clear early evening on the day before Christmas, I walked in town with my sweet dog, intent on taking some pictures of holiday decorations in downtown Cody.
I snapped the picture below (of a bank of all things) because I loved the combination of the normal bank lights, the pine trees, the very clear and darkening sky, and the finger-nail moon...............
 At the edge of the large down town park a "Santa's Cottage" had been set up for the holidays.
As Kory and I walked close to the cottage we watched as a father with three small children walked out of the cottage after having visited with Santa.................
 The beautiful and historic court house.
It has wonderful external architecture, deep hardwood doors and trims inside, marble floors, and beautifully landscaped grounds.............
 I had planned on taking my time wandering in town with my sweet dog on this Christmas Eve.
I wanted to take a lot of pictures, but as we continued to walk down Sheridan Avenue my hands were absolutely freezing.
Cody is beautiful at Christmas.
The lamp posts, the trees, the benches, the statues, the store fronts, all filled with lights.
I had planned on taking many pictures, but as cold as it was on this eve before Christmas, this was all I could muster before finally speed walking back to the cottage.................
 I fall for it every time.
Every time I walk by this store front I am startled, thinking that a person is staring at me through the window...............
 I covet everything in this store.................
 We passed on the house in Meeteetse.
It wasn't right...................

There is more to a boy than what his mother sees. There is more to a boy then what his father dreams. Inside every boy lies a heart that beats. And sometimes it screams, refusing to take defeat. And sometimes his father's dreams aren't big enough, and sometimes his mother's vision isn't long enough. And sometimes the boy has to dream his own dreams and break through the clouds with his own sunbeams..............Ben Behunin, Remembering Isaac: The Wise and Joyful Potter of Niederbipp

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