Tonight, after dinner, J.P. and I went to Belmont U to hang out for a bit. As has been the case lately, I had to talk him into going. He initially said he wanted to play basketball in his room upstairs instead. Ultimately, he relented and we drove down to Belmont Blvd., got a cup of coffee at Bongo Java, stopped in Athlete's House to look around and walked over to Belmont U and into the Student Center. It was deserted for the most part, as it usually is in late June/early July. No basketball camps and not many kids around for summer school.
In the end, we had a great time hanging out together for a little while. I need that time with him and he needs that time with me, I think. I rarely get home from work before 6 p.m., so we don't get a lot of one on one time together before dinner and bedtime. Because Jude (or Carley) usually picks him up from school or camp (in summer) at Chldren's House at 3:15 p.m., she has some time along with him on a regular basis. Consequently, I treasure every minute alone with J.P. I can get.
It was nice, just walking around the student center, quietly talking to each other. I've mentioned this before, but it's almost as if I see ghosts when I walk around Belmont's campus. The memories - mostly of time I've spent there with J.P. - are everywhere. Bushels of memories, like snapshots in a mental photo album.
Tonight, we sat down in some chairs on the second floor and looked out onto Belmont Boulevard. I asked him to come sit with me. After a little coaxing on my part, he climbed up in my lap. I told him I loved him and that for the rest of my life, I would always treasure the memories of the time we've spent together at Belmont over the last 5 years. I think he appreciated the moment on some level, because he began to recount some of his favorite memories. I did the same as we sat there together.
In a "Puff the Magic Dragon" kind of way, it's harder and harder to convince him to go to "Belmont School" (as he used to call Belmont U) with me to hang out and walk around. I get that he's getting older and it's natural that he wants to do different things with me - play basketball, practice baseball, etc., which is cool. I would be lying, though, if I said I didn't miss the days when he and I went to Belmont U. almost every night after dinner. Simple times. Innocent times, playing make believe games in the student center or playing soccer at dusk on the soccer filed (which is no longer there, by the way).
My boy, my oldest son is growing up before my very eyes. It's more challenging to entertain him, to stimulate him, to hold his attention which, again, I know is normal. Belmont School doesn't do it for him so much anymore, which makes me nostalgic and a little sad. He's getting older, I am getting older and life is moving on, maybe a little too quickly for me.
Being a parent. Wow. It's wonderful. It's hard, sometimes. And it tugs at your hearstrings, or at least at mine, which is a blessing and a curse that comes form having such a nostalgic nature, I suppose. J.P. is about the age I was when my father died and I want him to remember the times we've shared together, at Belmont School and elsewhere.
That gets to the heart of it, I think. I want him to know how much fun I had with him, how much I loved him and how proud I was of him, every single day of his life (and of my life when he was in it). He told me tonight, as we walked back to my truck, that he loved me even when I was a little boy, his age.
And I almost cried.
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