Last sentence I said out loud: “I don’t know what I’m doing, I have a shitload of stuff!”
Metaphor for my life lol.
But, in actuality, I was carrying my iPad, my phone, my keyboard and my coffee into my bedroom.
Lately, things have been pretty amazing as far as ‘amazing’ can go when you’re alone, your favorite person is terminal and you’re hundreds of miles away from your guy.
In a moment of vanity, may we acknowledge how insanely odd the ‘pause’ button makes us look? LOL! OK, done with that.
SO! (Other than the fact I need to get a haircut …)
Obviously the call was from my guy. It’s getting harder and harder being in a long distance relationship. But, also, think it suits both of us, and that’s kind of scary.
Am I going to be 70 waiting for his call? Just happy to have my own space and look forward to a call? OR, can we one day come together? I know as much as you do.
As for my son.
They’re moving again in mid-July. The love of his life is continuing her education to get her Masters. I’m proud of them both, but, won’t lie (like I ever here) I wish he would find HIS niche. His ‘thing’. I didn’t for the longest time, and let’s face it, he’s been in a relationship longer than I ever have lol! So I’ll just shut up about that.
Speaking of kids and futures, I discovered today I may be a grandma …
See the blobs?
I think eggs. I was cleaning out the fish I inherited and didn’t scrub those.
OK, so, now a big ‘reveal’. The other night I posted a cryptic message on my Facebook. I HATE when people do that! But, I did it. I mentioned I was giggling on the porch and couldn’t mention why.
Well, I’ll tell you now.
First, let’s look at this weed that grew outside my office – I wanted to capture it before the gardeners pulled it. So beautiful.
AND we segue into … “One man’s weed is another man’s flower”.
Those that follow me know that I am fighting not only agoraphobia, but severe anxiety/panic disorder and a heart condition.
I do ok.
But, I was given some medical marijuana from someone with a card.
I was dubious and scared. I mean, today’s pot is NOT what I used to use.
Back in the day I remember laughing until my belly hurt under the stars camping, having ingested pot brownies.
I remember what pot USED to be.
I had a bad time with it a year or so ago. Too strong for me. I couldn’t even move my limbs.
Well, THIS has made a difference.
It’s been about a month now.
I went from having 4+ attacks per week to maybe one every two weeks.
Able to not only drive to a shop (no, not while ON it – stays in the system I think) but go IN and do my shopping.
Also, sleeping a whole lot better.
Unfortunately, this is the last of it. But, seriously, marijuana needs to be legal medicinally everywhere!
Much better than the 3 toxic pills I take twice a day!!!
I, personally, can’t afford to get approved or afford a card. But, having experimented, I can say that it helped BIG time!
You know, with my “Shitload of stuff”. Lol.
Me: you’re leaving? But wait …
Me: I love you so much
Nic: May Neptune watch over your soul
Nic: May Neptune watch over your soul
Me: (internally) Wtf?
Me: (out loud) ok (followed by massive sobs and ugly crying noises)
Nic: bye for now
It all happened too quickly. Can I get a do over? Please.
(My status on Friday, the 6th of January.)
I knew it was going to hurt. I had no clue how much.
Considering the state of me the day before, work told me to please take the day if needed. I knew as I arrived home Thursday that it would be needed.
To pull closer to your home, only to see your child’s car surrounded by cases and ‘I’m going away’ items well, let’s just say I was sobbing by the time I had put the car into neutral and pulled my emergency brake.
This was it.
The last night.
I walked, wet cheeked, into a home I had shared with him since High School.
Suitcases and vacuum sealed bags lay about the living room and kitchen. His bedroom littered with debris from a lifetime together.
This was really happening.
I stood, purse in hand – unable to stop the tears.
The following morning was a blur.
After watching him drive off – I entered the house (no longer feeling like a home) and broke.
Into a thousand pieces.
I cried myself to sleep.
I cried some more.
I finally found the strength to enter ‘his room’.
And wished I hadn’t.
I grabbed a pillow abandoned on his unmade bed. Inhaled deeply and returned to bed with it. I clutched it so tightly.
And slept again.
In between the crying and the sleeping was the worrying – he was after all, embarking on a 27 hour trip across country.
Physically navigating terrain he’d never navigated before.
Just as I was emotionally.
It’s been 5 days since he left.
My dog, Butters has been out of sorts.
I’ve been trying to be ‘chipper’ at work. Albeit, quite unsuccessfully on Monday. I had made it through the entire day – catching up, slammed.
I was crunching year-end numbers just as I was informed the copy machine was acting up.
“I can only focus on one thing … I’ll call the copy people in a minute.”
A boss responded, “No, finish what you’re doing, don’t worry.”
And, out of my mouth?
“But if I don’t call now, Nic won’t come!!”
Our copy guy’s name is Christian.
Freudian slip led to tears.
They continued to fall as I stayed a little late and got everything done while everyone trod about me on eggshells.
Another jarring moment was yesterday. Nic had told me he would send photographs of where he was (having, obviously, safely arrived at his destination.)
I followed up and his response was:
“I haven’t been home yet. Lol I’ve. Been out all day”
Wasn’t ready for that sentence.
Not ‘our’ home.
And I’m going to have to get used to that.
I’m told repeatedly by people with the best intentions that his flight from the nest is a testament to my successful raising of him.
But I’m still trying to accept that. And, it’s hard. And it hurts.
However, I’m also very proud of him for taking such a ginormous step and embarking on a new chapter of his life.
For following his heart (literally, he left to be with his girlfriend of over three years.)
For bravely starting from scratch in a place he’s only visited a couple of times, and accepting the challenge to ‘adult’.
I’ll always be here for him.
I’ll always miss him.
And perhaps most importantly, always love him enough to let go.
My current status …
I’ve been pretty, um, I want to say ’emotional’ but, truth be told I’ve been a completely withdrawn, passive aggressive bitch. Not just to my son.
It’s as if I want people not to like me so that it will be easy to wean myself off of them.
There’s four pretty significant things getting me down lately – but I’ll just speak on this one.
How to drive home January 6th 2017, not see my son’s car outside of our home and not completely shatter.
Let me clarify again, I am very happy for him. I am very proud that he’s leaping headfirst into the world. I am terrified of his 27 hour trek across the States however.
And fuck! I’m going to miss my kid!!!!!!!
He is the only person I know or have ever met that can make me laugh every single day! The only person I can be completely myself around and be certain I’ll be loved.
Obviously my bitchy depressed mode hasn’t gone unnoticed by him.
Evidenced by, not only my attitude, but the fact that in spite of hosting Thanksgiving this year, I hadn’t one shred of Christmas up.
I’m usually the eager Christmas beaver, wanting to festoon my home as soon as it is socially acceptable. Not this year. I had no joy. No excitement. I also spent the whole 4 1/2 days, other than Thanksgiving day, in my room.
This past Sunday, after the laundromat, I shrugged back into my pajamas and settled in to continue my very important 4 day activity … being horizontal while attending my Netflix pity party binge.
In walks my son.
Him: Let’s go to Oatman for lunch. My treat.
Me: I don’t want to go to Oatman. I was going to take a nap.
Him: OK, I’m going to get ready, then we’ll go to Oatman.
Me: Nic … I really don’t want to go anywhere.
Him: OK, we’ll go to the Hualapai’s instead.
Me: No! That’s too far!
Him: OK, Oatman it is.
He left. And I lay with remote in hand – 3 day old pajamas and a body awash in guilt.
The countdown has begun for the end of this chapter with my favorite person. And I have been pushing him away instead of making each moment count.
I got up.
Ran a brush through my hair.
Swiped my eyelashes with mascara – colored my pale lips.
Dressed warmly – the gray skies were threatening to water our desert.
And found him.
And off we went.
And the moment we began driving my spirits lifted. I was already laughing before we reached our highway.
We encountered a burro blockage as we approached our destination.
Burro was not budging.
The closer we came to Oatman, the more the burros. Here was our escort.
We parked and sauntered into the town we’ve spent so much time together.
Stopped in all the old familiar places. Enjoyed the warmth of an old fireplace as we ate lunch.
And then …
And then it occurred to me this might be the last time we did so together … alone.
My heart ached.
And as if on cue, as my eyes welled, the skies opened – and we walked in the rain. Unfazed by it. We have that in common – our love for the rain.
We took our time heading for the car.
Took our time driving.
Stopped. Enjoyed more time in the rain.
I can honestly say the day ranked up there … one of the top 10 days I’ve ever spent with my baby. My ‘baby’ who has become man enough to understand and to put up with my mood swings. Man enough to know that I needed that nudge.
I put our small tree up.
I’ve yet to find an extension cord in order to light it, but it’s a significant beginning.
And as for my sweet son and his upcoming departure? His significant beginning? I’m learning there’s no need for the cord that once joined us.
He’ll continue to make me laugh – from afar.
He won’t stop loving me nor I him.
It will be a slow process for me – learning how to live in a home he no longer shares with me.
And it will be an exciting and strengthening process for him … learning how to ‘adult’ and not having to share a home with me.
I’ve figured it out.
The parenting paradigm. This progression of unconditional love and support to ‘If he leaves a dirty dish in the sink one more time, I shall end him’.
I’ll preface all of this with, if my son needed me to die today in order to live – I would not ask a question except “Where do I have to go for this to happen?”
If he needed a body part and I had to saw if off myself – okay … probably that would be hard to do – but I’d let people hold me down and do it without any anesthesia.
My son is my most favorite person – my raison d’être.
Then he got older. And more capable. And more independent.
Which is great! But as I strained to lug two laundry bags inside today, and realized that 3/4 of it was his – and that he is not even here … well.
Know how we panic then experience such emotion when an animal is killed in a movie, but not so much a human?
Yes you do.
I’ve figured it all out.
Once someone is capable of taking care of themselves but won’t – then it’s on them.
A small child – innocent animal – they can’t do it. They depend on us. Count on us. Love us with pure abandon.
Which, is why I broke down and cleaned out Nic’s hamster last night. Poor thing.
I remember how he begged to have her for his birthday – we stood in the pet store, his 19-year-old hands sweaty with birthday money and he pledged that THIS animal would be different. After all, he was a MAN now.
When I returned home from work Friday, he had left for the weekend – and little remnants of his visit were everywhere. Curiously, none of them cedar chips – which invariably end up on the kitchen floor during a cage cleaning.
Our current situation is this – he works Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday in a neighboring State. Then he comes home Monday night and goes to our local college Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I think. There may be one more day in there. Anyway, he stays with my mom while he’s working. The excuse was ‘to save gas’ although, I think that was the beginning of another necessary paradigm shift – the spreading wings part.
It’s working out for me. I get the weekends alone and still get to see him during the week in-between video games/calls to his girlfriend and Skypes. So basically when he’s hungry and rooting around in the kitchen, or bored because he’s had his fill of online entertainment. It’s working out for my mom for sure – she get’s grandma time. And it’s working out for Nic. So it’s win-win-win really.
But before he left this time, I asked him to please clean his hamster and before he came home this time, I had asked him to please keep the house as clean as it was.
So Friday night after telling him I was confused and was he coming home that night? Due to the fact that his TV was on, hamster wasn’t done, trash was overflowing and dishes were on the counter. (And I wasn’t being sarcastic) this chat happened.
it started with me telling him I would clean out the hamster this weekend. Yeah I know, pushover. But remember, we are pulled to caring for the defenseless.
Back to the Parenting Paradigm.
So the more the young is capable of doing, and the older the young get – the more it feels like you’ve got a non-paying roommate that does nothing to contribute to the house and yet enjoys all the benefits of living there.
Nature knows what it’s doing. Because we were all like that to some degree and I’m certain its on purpose. So that when the time comes for the young to leave the nest – us parents willing to saw body parts off won’t be so devastated.
I enjoy my quiet weekends. But I’m not ready for silent weeknights just yet.
I cleaned out the hamster last night by the way … after I gave Butters a bath and cleaned the house – because none of those things were capable of doing themselves.
And the laundry hasn’t learned to fold itself yet – so I’m headed to the dryers and hoping you all had a wonderful weekend.