He, more often than the others, would crawl into our bed long after being tucked into his own bed with a story and a song and sometimes spend the remainder of the night with us.

Happy endings were my goal. We went ice skating, sledding, hiking, swimming at the hot springs, and often visited with people who had children. And I took him to adult gatherings. My children were very much a part of me, so I wanted them to know what I knew, thought their company was a good idea. Not everyone agreed.

I had a lead role in the community play, our children had been attending practices, my wife wanted them out of the house, she had other plans for the evening, and I loved having them nearby, interacting with the children of others in the play. Occasionally they would wander on stage, to get a close up view of the action. One evening unknown to me, the door to the hall was locked, and the children were informed that they would no longer be allowed into the theater. I was only marginally aware of the screaming. When I did not immediately respond, rather remained focused on my lines, the play’s director stopped the action to inform me that I’d better take my children home and not come back with them. My wife would not be home, so what was I to do?

Julia had accepted the door’s closure, Chris had not. Despite all his precocious independence, he liked to have a clear path to my arms. It was he who was screaming. Josh seemed to adjust to unfamiliar environments easily. Chris was not so trusting of strangers. Why? Did he see them as competition, bent on stealing his birthright?

I lifted him into my arms, got them all safely home. Julia very conscientiously informed me of all that had gone wrong, who’d delivered the stern ultimatum, and closed the door. I was barely able to contain my anger, those other players knew the conditions under which I’d agreed to participate, yet here they’d decided without informing me that my children would no longer be allowed to attend rehearsals, my wife worked many evenings, and I considered dropping out of the play. I loved my children, wanted them to know me fully, and liked having them nearby. Chris knew his rights and vocally defended them. I did resume my role in the play, but only after I’d found a suitable alternative.

He had a good friend in the neighborhood, but perhaps sooner than I knew, it became competitive, who was going to win which game. Did he feel that he had to “win” in order to garner his father’s affection?

He was only six when the divorce came. “I Lived Two Lives” could be the title of his biography. For a year or so he would live at his Mother’s apartment for one week, then the next week he would be at “my” house. I tried to keep healthy routines going, reading stories, lots of outdoor sports, visits with friends, excursions into the country side, wood gathering expeditions, swimming, home cooked meals, sugarless eating….

I would load bicycles into the back of the truck, drive them to the top of Galena Gulch. They would ride the seven or so miles back to the house on their own. They’d coast through puddles or the stream and build dams. They were daring and very independent.