Playing Mom. And hating it
MONDAY, April 19 – I start the day by emailing my brother.
‘Hi Brother,
These phone calls don’t really seem to work, for either of us. Why don’t you just come by this weekend? I’d like that. With the whole family, with your son, or alone. Whatever’s convenient. These perfunctory phone calls at regular intervals aren’t getting us anywhere. Take care!’
8:00 – It’s cold this morning. I remind the boys: make sure you put on a coat. Eamonn says okay. Sander bargains. A sweat shirt without a jacket or a T-shirt with a jacket. I say: ‘a sweat shirt with a jacket’. He says no. I say: ‘I hate having to play Mom.’ He says, ‘Then stop giving me a hard time.’ I laugh. At him and myself.
Diary of a Widower 