Billy, Michael and Ricky 2012
Karen:
Now that Billy is older and much more manageable, he has actually become not only an integral part of our family’s happiness, but also a help around the house. When we first sent him to sleep-away camp when he was 10, it was probably one of the biggest reliefs of my life, to have him somewhere safe (see "A Christmas Gift in July") where I didn't have to worry about him for 18 days. But as Billy matured, and stopped doing all those things that were so difficult to manage, and started to calm down, we actually missed him when he went to camp. I never thought that would happen!
The Bill Effect
Each summer,
Our Bill goes to camp.
Remaining Mariscals revamp.
Without his schedule to keep,
There’s extra time.
There’s extra sleep.
We miss him, but I must confess:
We like those “extras” nonetheless.
And usually, the days just fly.
But something happened this July.
It started in the smallest way,
we’d hardly noticed, from day to day,
but Brian, Michael, Ricky and me,
succumbed to Bill-less entropy.
Out the window, the plants were wilted,
watering can strewn empty, and up-tilted,
and papers piled up on the stoop
accentuated the plants droop.
Without Bill’s help, it was no fun
to water plants out in the sun,
and so we’d simply let it slide,
just like the papers piled outside.
Other tasks were suffering too,
mostly jobs Bill helped us do:
Like groceries? Had we even shopped?
Without Bill’s help, we’d somehow stopped.
Even cooking seemed a waste,
without Bill here to stir and taste.
Which explained our latest craze:
from freezer straight to microwave.
Gracious! How our “oomph” had faded.
All our habits seemed degraded.
Without Bill home to walk the floor,
why listen to music anymore?
So Michael, as he’d never planned,
stopped listening to Dave Matthew’s band.
And TV? Ricky, to our shock,
no longer laughed at “30 Rock.”
Still other favorites lost their charm.
But this caused me the most alarm:
Brian, who puts Bill to bed,
now fell asleep after dinner instead,
which meant that, at the very least
all talk of college choices ceased!
I myself was quite a mess,
without Bill to remind to dress,
I walked around in disarray,
in baseball cap and jeans each day.
By the time Bill’s camp was done,
we’d hardly had one bit of fun.
No walks, bike rides, or dinners out;
mostly we’d just lain about.
We needed Bill to tag along,
to taste the soup, to sing a song,
to keep plants watered, and us fed,
to help us wake up, go to bed,
to make us conscious of small joys.
We parents, and the younger boys,
so independent, seemingly,
weren’t much good at being free.
Into camp our family straggled,
poorly fed and much bedraggled.
We weren’t surprised to learn our funk
had not extended to Bill’s bunk.
They’d danced and sung.
They’d hiked, and played.
His cabin mates had all displayed
the Bill Effect, by now well- known,
that we had sorely missed at home!
In short, there’d been a lack of quiet.
We whisked him home, eager to try it!
And missing, very much indeed,
The joy of mutual love and need.
Billy on Christmas morning, with his present
