Stopping Storms

Like all living beings do, I eventually acclimatized to the cold. I did not learn to love it, but at least I have learned to live with it. It is all a matter of adjusting long-learned habits to cope with the changes: stepping out in layers of clothes, having a sweater or extra layer of shirt within reach in case temperature suddenly plummets mid-day, generously putting on lotion or baby oil as often as possible, and showering. I find taking warm showers somehow help stop my teeth-chattering for the rest of the day.

Adaptation is mental, as well as physical of course. I had a bad skin breakout  on my second week here.The skin around my arms, legs, and abdomen became reddish, scaly and itchy due to the cold weather. It was horrible for a week or so. Then this week, the flaky look has diminished. Although I still have reddish spots, the skin does not feel as dry as before.

With Spring here, I look forward to better looking skin and getting out of winter boots, of seeing green instead of white, of walking a few kilometers without coming home with my face so numb I can walk into a tree and still keep smiling. I look forward to seeing the other side of this beautiful, quiet city.

But one cannot adapt to all types of environment, can they? While I have learned to live with the cold weather and the lack of neighborhood convenience stores, I am not sure how much adaptability is possible with living in a house with the Ex.

His presence in itself does not concern me. It is his direct and indirect influence on the lives and perspectives of my children that does. How does one live with a person who comes home and, without asking how the children's day in school went, dials his friend's number and talks to him for an hour or so, asking him how his day went? How can one adapt to an individual who got the kids mobile phones because they need it, told them that he will take care of their first monthly bill and the rest ($25/month each) they will have to pay themselves, and kept telling them every day not to use their voice mailboxes and data but only the wi-fi, only for us to discover that each of the kids' first monthly bill amounted to a mere $1.36 because there was a promo rate for the first month? How must I feel when he tells me to do "what he says and not what he does" in front of the two boys after he makes traffic violations in areas where there are no traffic cams? How should one react when he exclaims within the boys' hearing that he could not afford the tuition for a commercial pilot training, which is what Kian is dead-set on undergoing after high school?

Clearly the tension between us has escalated, like electricity that hangs in the air when a lightning storm approaches. Just a couple of hours ago, a clap of thunder occurred.

The Ex took Renz more than a week ago to Bank of Montreal so Renz can open checking and savings accounts. Over dinner tonight, I told the Ex that I looked through the papers and saw that the savings account Renz enrolled in charges $13.95 a month for balances that fall beyond $3,000. The accounts were opened without any initial deposits. I asked the Ex if he knew about the monthly fee because some banks have savings accounts that do not have any monthly charges. He said he let Renz (who has no experience as a bank customer and was likely overwhelmed with the banking lingo) talk to the account officer. Indirectly, he was saying that he was not listening. I told him that he should have paid attention because one day, when Renz makes a deposit of, say, $20 in hard-earned money to his savings account, what would the Ex say when Renz approaches him and asks why his balance became $6.05 and where did the rest of his money go?

The Ex then slightly raised his voice and said, "You don't need to make a big deal out of it. I can go and close his account if you want." That was not entirely accurate because he is not a co-depositor of Renz's account and he cannot request for the closure of an adult son's account.

I answered that I do make it a big deal because this concerns the welfare of "my children". He snapped back, "Only your children? Not 'our' children? So are you saying I don't care about them?"

I was 2 seconds away from blurting out that yes, he does not care about the children if their welfare goes above his own and that judging from the past 10 years that he had not supported them even by a single peso and barely visited them while I broke my back for them, then yes, I can very well confidently say that he does not care for them. But I bit hard on my tongue.

Instead, I answered that I was speaking for myself. I was not speaking for him, for Renz, or for Kian.

I wish I can see into my children's minds. Are they disappointed? Has their sense of right and wrong been dented?

What about me? When will the next thunder roll?

Winter, I can accept. But not malevolent storms that destroy lives and futures.