I found a set of sheets in one of the boxes in the hallway near the linen closet and put them on my bed. After finding my toiletries, I took a quick shower and almost fell into bed. Exhaustion had crept up on me, and I was asleep within minutes.
Keelan had beenon summer break for two weeks, and his mood had completely shifted. I hadn’t realized how down he’d been during the few weeks of school, and I was glad he was back to his happy-go-lucky self.
The moment he walked out of that school on the last day, it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His smile was brighter, his voice was lighter, and his happy energy was contagious.
Against Keelan’s wishes, I spoke with the principal and his teacher about the bullying he’d been enduring. His teacher claimed she hadn’t noticed anything, and she and the principal said they’d keep an eye on the situation.
It seemed neither of them took our conversation seriously because two days later, Keelan got into a fight with one of the boys. They tried to suspend him, but after reviewing the camera footage, they saw that he was only defending himself. Instead, they sent him home for the remainder of the day.
A few months ago, I took a chance and completed an entrance form and scholarship application for Keelan to attendBlack Elm Academy, a private school. Last week, I received notice that he’d been accepted, and I only had to pay 20 percent of the tuition.
Although I didn’t know much about the students who bullied him, I prayed they were attending public school, and Keelan wouldn’t have to worry about them. Eventually, I pushed the incident to the back of my mind.
He attended a summer enrichment camp from Monday through Thursday, and any other activities he participated in were in the evenings or on weekends. The art class he signed up for was offered in the evenings atBlack Elm Academyand began at the end of June.
After the first day of summer camp, he came home talking about a new friend, and every day since, he had a story about something they’d done together at camp. I was happy he’d connected with someone because he rarely talked about other kids.
On Fridays during the summer, I only worked a half-day and spent my afternoons with my son. We typically went out for lunch before doing something Keelan suggested, such as visiting parks or museums or going to the beach. His father continued to be a no-show, so I did my best to ensure Victor’s absence wasn’t felt.
“Mom, do you think I can go to Trey’s birthday party?”
We’d just been seated atBlack Elm Breakfast Bistro, and I was a little surprised by his question. The last time Keelan was invited to a birthday party, he was six or seven years old.
“You want to go?”
“Yeah, and maybe one day he can come to our house.”
Still surprised, I clarified, “I don’t mind either of those things, but this is new for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t gone to a birthday party in a few years, and you’ve never had a friend over.”
He shrugged. “I talked to some kids at school, but they weren’t really my friends.”
It was crazy how he’d figured that out at such a young age, but I suspected there was another reason.
“I understand that, but are you sure there wasn’t another reason?”
He hesitated briefly. “I didn’t want anyone to see you and Dad arguing.”
My intuition was spot on, and I nodded. “Your father and I argued a lot, and I’m sorry you had to be a witness to that.”
“It was mostly Dad’s fault.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. Dad’s not a nice person. You’re nice, but Dad made you be mean a lot of times. He was like the bullies at my old school.”
“How so?”
“It’s hard to be nice to people when they’re mean to you. When they pick with you over and over and over again, until they force you to be mean back.”
His analogy and perception amazed me. It was easy to forget he was the ten-year-old child that I’d birthed.
“That’s what you think happened with your father and me?” He nodded. “Am I better now?”
“Much better, and you’re always in a good mood.”
