As I wrote several times, I struggled for a while to figure out how to communicate with Robin, she lives hours away, and I’m no good on Facetime when it comes to a situation like that. Maria says getting close to people is difficult for me.
I know I’m also not the traditional smitten grandfather (I’m not the conventional anything, I guess) either.
Emma has done a great job of helping me to figure this out.
She took on this issue positively and effectively. She and I are different, but we also share many traits. We know each other well.
She has come up here a couple of times, and navigating New York, and a long train ride with a six-year-old is no small thing. My foot issues and Covid have made travel challenging, but I believe they will improve shortly.
Through phones, visits, photography, books, and art supplies, she has shown me how to stay in touch with Robin, who is intensely communicative and in no way shy. I think I intimidate here, but some straw fights are moving things along.
Emma texted me this morning to tell me Robin is hooked on an Ada Twist chapter book I gave her when she came. I see that chapter books differ from picture books, and Robin is ready for chapter books. Four more are in the mail.
Even if we can’t often see one another, communicating is possible; it just takes some focus and will. Emma says Robin often talks about the farm now, especially the chickens and the sheep and me and Maria (Emma does not like sheep, she thinks they have spooky eyes).
She has memories of us now, which she didn’t really have before.
She and Maria have bonded, and she is enjoying the freedom to range around an ample space like a farm; she can’t do that in Brooklyn. She loves throwing rocks around and building a snowman. And several times a day, she headed outside to feed the chickens.
She loves trying to figure me out. Nobody is going to push her around. I asked her if she wanted to hug me Saturday after dinner, and she said she didn’t want to. I held her hand as she got on the train and offered a handshake. She had no trouble doing that.
We shook hands goodbye. I’m not that touch-me-feely either.
It was a good thing that she could say no to a hug, it stung a little bit, but I appreciated its significance.
Feeding animals empowers children, massive ones like donkeys, and (to a child) she is getting more comfortable around them.
Emma and I are very close; we understand one another uniquely. Our dark days during the divorce have brightened up. I am very proud of her; she loves her husband, daughter, work, and life in Brooklyn.
That is an accomplishment, and I am very proud of her. She is a remarkable mother, and she is raising a particular child.
She has little interest in nature, spiritual pursuits, rocks or crystals, or the animals here. It’s just doesn’t draw her; she is a tough, appropriately snooty Brookynite and proud of it. She isn’t interested in the animals here but is a great dog lover.
She is very drawn to Fate, a fellow oddball.
Emma did soften up once while here; Emma talked about how chickadees are not afraid of people, they will eat off your hand, and she was eager to try it. We filled her hands full of birdseed and held them out near the feeder.
Emma loves taking photos but not being in them, so I respect that and don’t want to make her uncomfortable. She said taking a picture of her holding a hand out for the chickadees was fine.
No luck this time with the chickadees. Zinnia ate all the seeds she could find on the ground.
