Thursday, July 24, 2008

Making connections

Ever since he was little, my oldest has been enthralled with things that can be connected together. It started with his Thomas the Tank Engine set. He spent many gleeful hours linking up magnetized engines and coal tenders and freight cars. When his obsession expanded to all things vehicular, he was particularly fond of tow trucks, semis with trailers, and car carriers.

But I did not realize the level of his passion for inanimate connections until the summer he fell in love with cars that had trailer hitches. Seeing a pickup pulling a boat on the highway sent him into shrieking ecstacy. Seeing a car in the parking lot with a naked trailer hitch sent him into inconsolable tears. He seemed to think it was immoral to leave the trailer unused, on the par of abandoning a baby.

Now that he's a teen, he's put away his childhood interest in vehicles. But he remains doggedly committed to protecting connections among other favorite things. For a few years now, his Topic (Topic with a capital T, the Topic that consumes about 95% of his brain activity) has been movies, especially movies with sequels or multiple episodes. He carries all of his DVDs around in a full-to-bulging case that rarely leaves his side. When he watches one of his movies, he cradles the case in his arms, as if reassuring the other DVDs that their "friend" won't be gone long.

So, what to make of this life-long love for connected things? I believe my son craves connection, and he fulfills that craving with things because he can't figure out how to have connections with people. People don't have magnets that automatically link them together. They don't connect in a predictable, orderly way. Connecting with people is difficult for all of us, and for him it must seem impossible.

I don't know if my son will ever enjoy the connection that comes from true friendship, coworker camaraderie, or romantic love. I hope so. And I hope he knows that my connection with him will always be as strong and certain as a trailer hitch, for as long as we travel the same road.