![\"images-1\"](\"http:\/\/marianfontana.com\/site\/wp-content\/uploads\/images-1.jpeg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
When I was in grammar and middle school, my parents would occasionally allow me to skip school for what we affectionately called a \u201cpersonal day\u201d.\u00a0 These special occasions allowed me rare and memorable alone time with each parent.<\/p>\n
Personal days with my mother involved a cultural outing in Manhattan. We saw Picassos at the MOMA, Red Groom at the Marlboro Gallery and Calder at the Whitney. Days with my father were spontaneous adventures to Coney Island, Yonkers Raceway, pool halls and dark, dingy Dim Sum restaurants in Chinatown.<\/p>\n
While I wanted to give my son Aidan personal days too, the death of my husband when he was five postponed everything. \u00a0 \u00a0The year after he died, I bought a drafty carriage house on Staten Island hoping that being closer to my parents \u00a0and the bucolic setting would help us feel better.<\/p>\n
The quiet house, set back in a large patch of woods unnerved me. \u00a0 At night, every creak and sound convinced me that someone was breaking in to further ruin my life.\u00a0 I slept with Dave\u2019s knife tucked under the mattress, wide-eyed and alone. \u00a0I put on a good face for Aidan who began waking up at night too. He was convinced there were monsters on the roof. \u00a0After five nights, I \u00a0grabbed my pillow and joined him in his bed where the sound of chestnuts falling and rolling off our roof, did in fact sound like monsters, or at the very least, someone bowling.<\/p>\n
In spite of my concerns about creating some future complex of Shakespearean proportions, I began letting Aidan sleep in my bed. \u00a0It was quieter in my room and I never slept anyway. \u00a0 My doctor thought my severe insomnia was 9-11 related, but the truth is, I stopped sleeping \u00a0the moment Aidan was born.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It was as if some primitive trigger had been pulled and each night, I was as alert as a lioness on the African plains. \u00a0Most nights I obsessed about things, my list scrolled across my sleepless mind like a ticker tape: Remember to sign that permission slip for Aidan\u2019s teacher, I have to type the agenda for the medical examiner\u2019s meeting tomorrow, \u00a0meet with the staff, pick up \u00a0Aidan, make sure he does his homework while we wait for the guitar lesson. During the guitar lesson make sure you return all those phone calls, make a list, don\u2019t forget the e-mails, dinner, bath, laundry, bills, cleaning. \u00a0<\/em>It was the same each night, but watching Aidan sleep calmed me,\u00a0his face soft in the muted light, his eyelashes fluttering as if being blown by a breeze.<\/p>\n One morning we woke up two hours late, the light sneaking in under the edges of the shade.<\/p>\n \u201cI’m going to be late for school!\u201d Aidan yelled. I sat up panicked, the list echoing in my head, but then I stopped, exhaled and turned to Aidan who had already jumped out of bed.<\/p>\n \u201cActually, we\u2019re going to take a personal day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs that private?\u201d Aidan asked.<\/p>\n We took the ferry and then the 1 train to the Museum of Natural History, a place I have not visited for many years. I still remember reading Catcher in the Rye <\/i>in High school and\u00a0feeling oddly connected to Holden Caufield when he said of the museum: \u00a0\u201cThe best thing, though, in that museum was that everything stayed right where it was. \u00a0Nobody’d move. . . . Nobody’d be different. The only thing that would be different would be you.\u201d\u00a0 In the turmoil of my new life, I craved things that remain unchanged.<\/p>\n Aidan chose the gems exhibit where giant sparkling crystals glowed. In the asteroid room, he pretended that we had landed on another planet. I diligently looked shocked, staring open mouthed at the giant stone.\u00a0 When Aidan grew bored of our game, we strolled to the Africa exhibit where Aidan found the hall of monkeys.<\/p>\n \u201cI love monkeys,\u201d he said, staring at the glass cases.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s why I call you my monkey.\u201d I said smiling at a tamarind with a white cottony head.<\/p>\n \u201cThey look so real!\u201d Aidan said amazed.<\/p>\n \u201cThey are real sweetie,\u201d<\/p>\n I immediately regretted what I said when Aidan looked at me as if I killed off the species myself.<\/p>\n “See, this guy Teddy Roosevelt\u2026.he killed them so he could show them to people” I babbled.\u00a0Aidan was not convinced. \u00a0\u201cHe just killed one of everything so people could see what they looked like and appreciate them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy didn\u2019t he just open a zoo?\u201d Aidan asked.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I said. \u00a0\u201cYou\u2019re right. It is weird. I guess, back then, hunting was popular. Like Pokeman.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI hate Pokeman and it\u2019s mean to kill animals. Look! He killed a baby!\u201d Aidan yelled as he pointed to a baby spider monkey clutching its mother. \u00a0\u201cWhy did you take me to a stuffed zoo?\u201d he asked incredulously.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a Natural History museum,\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a STUFFED ZOO,\u201d he repeated. An overweight security guard eyed us and cleared his throat.<\/p>\n \u201cLets go to the IMAX movie!\u00a0 It\u2019s about elephants!\u201d I said. \u201cYou love elephants.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI remember like an elephant,\u201d Aidan said quoting the many times Aidan brought up events I had long forgotten.<\/p>\n The IMAX screen was enormous, a perfect size for the mammoth pachyderm. Aidan and I sat back in the comfortable seats and watched the pack of elephants, cooing at the lovable baby elephants at the end of the line, their trunks curled around their mother\u2019s tail. I watched Aidan\u2019s profile as he laughed at the baby, teasing his mother with his trunk.<\/p>\n Then, the music shifted and the sound of the narrator\u2019s voice became more serious. \u201cThe pack is desperate to find water for if they don\u2019t, they will most certainly die.\u201d The camera followed the baby elephant as it faltered, weakened by hunger and thirst. Distressed, the mother urged the baby to continue on, even pushing him from behind.\u00a0 Deeply communal, the other elephants joined her in a moving effort to keep the baby elephant going. The violins swelled making it obvious the baby couldn’t move and would most certainly die. \u00a0 I cried watching the mother elephant rock back and forth having to make the Sophie’s choice to continue with the herd or remain with her baby.<\/p>\n \u201cI want to go home\u201d Aidan said as the baby elephant collapsed to its knees, the herd disappearing into a cloud of dust.\u00a0 I guided Aidan out of the darkened theater, past the Tyrannosaurus Rex and out onto the street.\u00a0\u00a0Aidan’s hand was clammy and warm as I walked us back toward the subway. \u201cWhy did the mother leave him?\u201d he asked after a long silence.<\/p>\n \u201cShe had no choice. She had to leave or she would die too.\u201d I said. \u00a0\u201cIts nature, sweetie.\u201d \u00a0I stopped then realizing Aidan was crying. “Oh sweetie.” I said squatting down to hug him, his head dropping heavily onto my shoulder.<\/p>\n “I want to go to school tomorrow!” Aidan wailed and I sighed.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay.” I said kissing his head. \u00a0I stood up and we continued, Aidan wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.<\/p>\n “You know, if I were a mommy elephant…” I said “I would stay with you.\u201d<\/p>\n Aidan looked up at me, his eyes wide and brown.<\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally,\u201d I said with confidence, because I knew I would.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n When I was in grammar and middle school, my parents would occasionally allow me to skip school for what we affectionately called a \u201cpersonal day\u201d.\u00a0 These special occasions allowed me rare and memorable alone time with each parent. Personal days with my mother involved a cultural outing in Manhattan. We saw Picassos at the MOMA, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-767","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"