Rob could see it was something major. He kept asking me to tell him, and I said "After we go to Staples". I knew I would break down and I couldn't do that and then go into a store.
After Staples, I told him. He was furious.
They never had a close bond. All Rob had wanted was a little boy to follow him around and ride dirt bikes with him. Hugh was not that child. He was a challenging infant, making the first months difficult for bonding. He was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Dysfunction. He was sensitive to noise, dirt, clothing, motion, gravity. He had a speech delay and screamed a lot, with apparent little reason. For someone with no experience with children, he was not an optimal first child. Rob started putting up walls early on.
As Hugh grew older, his personality emerged more and more. And he was less and less like his Dad. More like his Dad's brother. And that was not a good thing, in Rob's eyes. Hugh "lacked" athleticism, drive, initiative. He was stubborn, reserved, and sometimes timid. Despite not being a "manly boy", Hugh was not in any way a "girly boy" either.
We really tried to encourage him to embrace high school. He'd gone to four different elementary schools for K-8, but at least going to high school, he was with kids he'd known from the last two elementary schools. Yet, he still wouldn't engage with his life. No clubs, no teams. A couple times he joined something, only to say "I don't know when they meet" a month later. He did well enough academically, getting honour roll in grade 9, but not grade 10.
As the courses got more specialized, he seemed to bloom. He was a deep thinker with a sarcastic sense of humour. His teachers liked him. One day, Lucy had a supply teacher for science. Since they had the same science teacher, she told him how bad the supply (substitute) teacher was, before his class. While in his computer design class, Hugh faked a guidance appointment slip and gave it to the supply teacher at the start of science.
He knew I was working that day, but didn't know it was just a half day. I came home, and the door was unlocked. I came in, and could hear music blaring in the basement. Who was home?! I was a little freaked out! Then Hugh comes down the stairs, ready to go in the hot tub!! Busted!! I sent him back to school, but was secretly pleased at his attempt to break rules so I didn't punish him.
In his last year, his friends were getting their driver's licenses, but he wasn't interested. He wrote the test but didn't seem to want to learn to drive. His friends were happy picking him up and suddenly he was out of the house a lot more. Although I worried about their safety, I knew Hugh just didn't do stupid things.
As the last year of high school progressed, it was time for university applications. Hugh had to be pushed every step of the way. He had no idea what he wanted to study, or where. Of course, we wanted him to go to Queen's, but recognized his marks weren't all that high for any specialty programs. We heard of a program that would allow him to combine film studies (including editing) and computer programming. That seemed like a good fit if he didn't get into computer programming.
In the end, the decision was computer programming at Carlton University (which we had never even toured because he just couldn't decide if he wanted to) or the "Computers in the Creative Arts" at Queen's. We subtly encouraged him to go to Queen's because we had found out he could transfer into B. Com Prog after first year if he had the marks and the required courses.
Then it was time for residence lottery. Unbelievably, Hugh got West Campus---and so did several other students from our neighbourhood. Not just his high school, but our actual small neighbourhood. Rob was furious. He took it as a personal attack on his "Queensness". And he couldn't understand Hugh's lack of excitement and initiative. I just said "It's a lottery. We knew that. Get over it. Everyone says they love it once they've lived there".
It was hard getting Hugh excited for anything. You'd think though, that university would be worthy of a little bit of excitement. The day before we left, he had barely packed.
The move in went fine, but before long Rob and him were bumping heads. We went down to Kingston for Homecoming Weekend, and Hugh didn't really want to see us. In fact, we were at West Campus for the football game, and he wouldn't let us in his building to use the bathroom. Getting him to make travel plans to come home for his graduation was like setting up an appointment to get teeth pulled. We came and got him at Christmas and when they left to go back, I simply said "See you in April". When they (Lucy went too) got to the rez, Hugh said "Thanks, see you later" and wouldn't let them in his room.
He didn't want to come home for Reading Week in February. So we went to see him, but he was not happy having us in his room.
He never called us. Trying to get financials arranged was a chore. He seemed to be really enjoying the campus life. He joined fencing and archery and was interested in a Magic card group. He was doing okay for marks. He liked history and film and they were his best marks, but he preferred the other courses as they had less reading and writing. We were pushing him to find a summer job and get an apartment for the next year.
On March 16, my dad died, somewhat unexpectedly. We called and texted Hugh but he wasn't responding. Finally, just as we approached the fork in the highway that determined if we would go straight up to my parents, or go east to pick him up, he called. We went the extra mile (many, many extra miles) to pick him up. Pulled around to his building, but he was actually waiting by the front doors of the main building. Why? On Monday, March 18 we took him back. We got to his rez room door. He unlocked it, threw his bag in, and quickly closed it, saying "Well, bye. See you later".
That was the last time I would ever see my son.
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