Detach With Love
Mommy says we are leaving... again. I really don't want to go, I like it here but she says I have to learn to 'detach with love'. I don't know what it means but she keeps saying it anyways. I don't want to be mad at my mommy, she says anger is bad but I don't know why either. There are a lot of things I don't know. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I could understand but I can't. Maybe I am as stupid as my last uncle said. I wasn't mad when we left him, I didn't like it much there but I like it here. Uncle Mike is nice to me, he plays with me, he taught me to read and I know I'll never see him again... I never do, whether I like them or not.
That's kind of funny, the other kids have uncles too but their mommies don't live with them... they live with their daddies. I never had one of those. They say it's because I'm a 'bastard' and I guess that's a bad thing but I don't know why. I guess it's just another one of those words I don't understand and I hate that. When I grow up I want to understand all the words, even those that sound funny because they are in other languages. I hope this time around we won't end up in a place where people speak other languages 'cos I really don't like those. I like that even less than leaving Uncle Mike. When we go to those places mommy is always too busy to play with me 'cos she's doing grown up stuff and I can't even play with the other kids... but at least since I can't play with them they can't pick on me for not having a daddy of my own.
I don't like other kids much... they are always picking on me either 'cos I'm short or 'cos I'm a bastard or 'cos my name sounds funny or 'cos my clothes are different. At least now I can read 'cos Uncle Mike taught me. I like books, they don't make fun of me 'cos I talk funny and they don't care if I'm tall or short.
Mommy comes to my room to help me pack and I know I won't even have a chance to say goodbye to Uncle Mike. I help her by bringing her my clothes 'cos I'm a big boy now... I can't expect her to do everything for me any more. She says that now that I'm five I'm old enough to be responsible. I ask her if we can take Nook, the stuffed dog Uncle Mike gave me for my birthday, with us. I really want him to come but she says no. She says that there's no room left in my suitcase even though I can see that there is. She says that Nook is just a thing and she won't listen to me when I tell her that he's not a thing, he's my best friend. She says I shouldn't get attached to things, that that's bad 'cos it takes away my freedom and I must detach with love.
I still don't understand, all I know is that I want Uncle Mike and Nook but I know it would be mean of me to cry... that would make my mommy sad and it would be my fault. I may be always in the way and I may be as stupid as my last uncle said but I don't want to make my mommy cry... no, it wasn't my last uncle who said I was stupid, my last uncle was Uncle Mike and he liked me and he taught me to read.