The In Between Room
My son, Connor has gone and gotten it in his head that he is turning nine today, which is impossible of course. But I will play along and start planning dad lines like, “You’re turning ten next year, it’s time to start…” and fill in the blank with whatever I like.
True story: The other night I had a dream where I was looking for Connor outside of a store. It wasn’t a panicked feeling like I’d lost him, more like when you’re at a birthday party at a large house and you don’t know what room the kids have gotten off to. My old buddy Jonathan walked past I said, “Have you seen Connor?”
He pointed behind himself and said, “He’s in the In Between Room.”
I woke with those words in my head and they stayed with me all day. I try to give Jonathan good dialogue when I can.
But yeah, we are in the In Between Room.
All but isolated from friends, swimming lessons, camp end everything else that’s on pause; the adults occasionally glued to their TV’s with expressions of horror and suspense becoming a regular part of the year as well as daddy remembering his mask once we get to the elevator. We spent the spring and summer with more time together than we ever have and for that I have been grateful. I got to be his teacher, and then switch hats to his playground buddy before going back to cafeteria lady.
We went and pulled him out of his old school and put him in a better one, perhaps throwing him even more off-balance though it was for the best.
I’ve watched him process all of this with equal parts earnest concern and a child’s indifference.
The In Between Room has become our new normal. I’ve been taking him on social distanced field trips to mostly empty museums, allowing unfettered Roblox with friends on my phone, Zoom violin lessons and anything else that will keep him sharp and feeling like life, and a whole city is still out there. Kids are resilient, and one day this will be a memory — with some added bragging rights, (God, will they be called the Covid Generation or something equally ridiculous?)
We’ve gotten quite used to this place in between what was and what the Next looks like — to be back at school, in the movies, diving into a pool. I suspect we will all emerge to be a kinder more appreciative version of ourselves. And I know that Connor and I both got a little wiser and stronger together this year.
Happy Birthday Con Man.