Ode to a Rascal

My cousin Mason is 10 years old with an undercurrent of maturity that exceeds many adults I have met in my life. Devil Boy (as I call him) is an old spirit with the exuberance of youth and a genuine inclination toward being not only a rascal, but also quite the raconteur.

I made a deal with Mason:  I will be your queer uncle if you will be my “acting” nephew.  He liked the notion and accepted the mission. We get along like a couple of old shoes.

Ah, children.  Their curiosity and honesty are refreshing. Mason has had his share of emotional contexts to cope with, for sure.   Sometimes he is a bit withdrawn in his world of sensitivity.  Other times he boldly goes where no Devil Boy has gone – right to the core of the matter.

My being unemployed intrigues him.  The other day he asked if I had received some “bad reports” – OMG I thought.  I have to answer this one honestly.  I responded by saying: Yes I have had some bad reports but am working hard to stay above the negative and look toward the positive.  Mason asked what I would do if I received eight emails each containing a job offer.  Hmmm I silently pondered; at the rate I’m going getting one email offering me a job might take an Act of God.  Mason answered his own question:  I’d take the one that paid the most.

Smart kid. Who cares about bad reports and finely tuned adult answers. Get right to the money man, who gives a crap about the one's past comportment or present philosophical approach. 

He's right -- both of the latter are pure bullshit.

Mason has been exceptionally understanding of why I have been coming back to Wisconsin so much:  To see my mom.   At first it was a little hard for him; both he and I share a love of building tents in the basement, shooting cats with nerf guns, playing in tree houses and generally causing trouble and tribulation for other family members. Dealing with illness is not much fun for sure.

Yet – he understands, accepts and supports me on my journey with mom. He gets it.

A few days ago Mason asked me when I was leaving; I said, Hey, you trying to get rid of me? Mason simply said:

I don’t want you to go.

My friends, this one statement from my dear devilish dervish-like delightful pal made all the difference in the world – soothing my wounded heart and fragile soul as only a child who loves you can.

SJA