Thursday, September 30, 2010
I'm going to bed now. I'll see you all tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Yep, that's what I've got. It's not that I don't have anything to say--on the contrary, I have a lot to say. It feels like I might have too much to say. I've been spending a lot of time alone, poking around the dark corners of all my yesterdays and I've found they aren't all empty. Some of them have been hiding gremlins who are now waking up from a decades-long nap and they are raising hell in my heart. They want things from me. They want answers. They want apologies. They want things I don't know if I can, or even should, give. The best thing I can do is show them out one by one--find a better place for them to live...outside me.
Photo by Cat Rocketship
Monday, September 20, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
My son went back to school this afternoon. My apartment, which had been electrified with love and interaction all weekend, is now silent and vacuous. My relatives returned to their homes too, leaving me here by myself to miss my boy.
I took a nap because I was tired from being 'on' all weekend and when I woke up, I really felt the sad emptiness of my apartment. I tried to think about people who would give anything to be alone right now--my neighbor with the three ceaselessly screaming kids, for example--but I still felt lonely.
I watched the Sunday evening animation shows my son and I used to watch together, then I called a good friend. We talked until I got tired again and now I'm going to sleep through this lonely, silent night, and wake up alone. This loneliness itself doesn't bother me, but the fact that this loneliness feels terminal does.
Photo by Ghetu Daniel
When your 19-year-old son moves into a dormitory, you don't automatically lose weight. You actually have to stop eating like your 19-year-old son. Alas.
Photo by vividBreeze
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Since my son's been home, I have had little contact with the outside world--and not just because I want to spend every spare moment with him. I've been busy cooking, cleaning, shopping and doing laundry. You won't believe this, but he brought home dirty laundry, and dirty dishes as well. That's got to be a first. I'm sending him back to his dorm with a large bag of paper plates, paper bowls and plastic silverware (sorry, Mother Earth). I just stopped to think about the fact that I did this and more, by myself, every day for almost 19 years. I've been patting myself on the back all day.
Photo by Ruth
My son is home for the weekend and I have been a cooking fool (hence my absence, dear readers). This morning, I made blueberry banana pancakes for him. It's something I did every Saturday morning when he lived at home. I always enjoyed doing it, but this time I was nearly ecstatic as I flipped those flapjacks. And man, were they good!
Photo by StartTheDay
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
My son is coming home for a visit this weekend. I can't remember the last time I was this excited about something. We planned this visit the weekend he went away and I have been waiting as patiently as possible for this Friday ever since. A few weeks ago, the wait seemed practically eternal; now I've got less than 48 hours to go. Like a kid waiting for Christmas, I'm so excited I could pop!
Photo by miki
I sold my car yesterday. Long story short, with a kid in college, I can't afford to own a car anymore. While I was waiting for the tow truck to arrive, I went through the glove box and looked under the seats, putting the things that belonged to my son and I in a Trader Joe's shopping bag. Then I got out of the car and walked around to the trunk so I could retrieve our belongings from there as well. As soon as I opened the trunk I felt really sad.
I saw the pink, mud-stained folding chair that sat along the sidelines of hundreds of lacrosse games; the huge umbrella that I sometimes had to hide under during those games; and the stray lacrosse balls--tiny trophies from various away games. I remembered the first time I drove my son and his teammates to practice in it. They were so excited. They loved the car. It was roomy and comfortable and lots of them could fit inside it. And I loved driving them in it. I loved watching them play lacrosse. I loved cheering for them. I loved being a lacrosse mom. It never occurred to me that I loved that car too. It was the car that took my son and I everywhere we wanted to go while he was in high school. The memories attached to that car are so special to me.
It was noon on a Tuesday and I didn't want the tow truck driver (or my neighbors) to think I was mentally unstable, so I pushed those thoughts out of my head, promising myself that if I really wanted to or needed to, I could have a good cry once the car was gone and I had returned to the privacy of my apartment. I didn't want to, but I needed to cry, so I did for a little bit. A day later, I'm still kind of blue about it.
Photo by Pete Zarria
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Ever since the nightmare I had last Sunday, I've been second, third and fourth guessing almost everything I've done in the last ten years. Today I asked the question, "what did I get in return for the shit-storm that followed my petition for divorce?" The answer is my authentic self, my freedom, my friendships, my personal growth, my successes, my art, my future, my hope, my beauty, my truth, my life. I made no mistake.
Photo by kevindooley
Monday, September 13, 2010
I hate asking for help. It makes me feel powerless and burdensome. But I raised a white flag today and asked a good and trusted friend for help with something and she came through for me in a big way. I will definitely not make a habit of this, but it sure is nice to know that if I need something or someone, all I have to do is ask.
Photo by Liminalmike
Again I'm posting twice today because I didn't post yesterday. I don't post yesterday because I ran 22 miles, came home, showered, ate and watched movies until I fell asleep. I'm training for my first marathon and there have been several times during my training when I doubted myself. After yesterday's run, the doubt is gone. I've got this.
Photo by jayneandd
Friday, September 10, 2010
Yesterday was my son's 19th birthday and the first time ever that I couldn't see or talk to him on his birthday. I received a text message just after midnight informing me that he was 'out' and would be going home soon. I assume he was enjoying some sort of collegiate birthday activity and chose not to pester him, but instead to let him enjoy being a college student, and I tried not to think too hard about what that might entail.
I didn't mention his birthday to anyone yesterday because thinking too long about not being able to see my favorite person on my favorite day would have made me cry. Instead, I walked around with a smile fastened tightly to my face and I fooled everyone, even myself for the most part.
I try to be a positive person and I am finding things to celebrate and be happy about during this transition, but sometimes a cloud or two slips by before I can slap a silver lining on it. Either way, unless I have a nightmare and call you choking on tears, you'll never know when that happens.
Photo by Paloetic
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I have rediscovered leftovers. I vaguely remember this delicacy from ancient times--the early 90's to be precise. Now lunchtime is a commemorative celebration of last night's dinner.
Photo by staramaze
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
...Some days you're the statue (or as my son would say when he was little, 'snatchoo'). Guess which one I was today? That's right, the snatchoo. It's okay--even a lousy day like today had a few bright moments. In the midst of a very frustrating public transportation SNAFU, I was able to play a game of Words With Friends and share a few texts with my son. It was so nice to check in with him, I forgot how annoyed I was with the CTA. And tomorrow I'll be the pigeon. Look out, snatchoos!
Photo by mushypea
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
If you work productively once you are home from the office, you'll have enough time to watch a movie--any movie you choose--and turn in at a reasonable hour.
Now watching Paper Heart
Photo by Eric in SF
Monday, September 6, 2010
I had a nightmare today during my post-run nap. I woke up wondering if some of my biggest and most difficult decisions were mistakes. I called a friend and talked through every detail of the dream and realized that for the most part, I was just angry (and sad, which made me angrier) that I felt forced to make those decisions in the first place. Now that I don't have to hold my tongue or police my thoughts anymore, some pretty intense 'junk of the hearts' has surfaced, and there's no good reason to hold it in anymore. Better in my dream life than in my waking life, I suppose. I'm off for another round. Sweet dreams everyone.
Listening to Dreammaniacs - Bettie Serveert
Photo by solofotones
Sunday, September 5, 2010
My introduction to the empty nest experience has been difficult at times, but I'm doing okay because I have friends. Friends to sing with; friends to run with; friends to dance with; friends to laugh with; and friends to cry with. Friends who pimp my blogs; friends who call or email 'just to check in'; friends who take me places; friends who come over for a visit; and friends who have my back. I'm a lucky woman indeed. Thank you, friends!
Listening to Elton John - Friends
Photo by janine berben
Saturday, September 4, 2010
There is an Italian proverb, dolore racconto e mezzo consolato--literally, pain told is half consoled. It means if you talk about your troubles, you'll feel better. No one is alone in being sad, scared and alone. Once I fessed up to it, others shared their sadness, their fear, and their loneliness with me. We sat over it like it was a warm cup of coffee we sipped over the the Internet via direct messages, @replies and Facebook comments. Some of us even made phone calls and *gasp* got together in person! Together, we weren't as sad, scared or alone.
Photo by madamepsychosis
Thursday, September 2, 2010
My grandmother died early this morning. She was 94. This wasn't shocking news and it wasn't unfair. She had lived a long, full life with more happy times than sad. I had the gift of her love and care for many, many years. Still the news upset me.
I got the call when I was on my way to work. In a split second, I decided that I didn't want to turn around and return to my empty apartment to be sad all day. I had been fighting to stay positive ever since I pulled away from my son's dormitory parking lot 12 days ago. What would happen if my exterior was punctured even slightly by a little sadness trying to escape? I kept walking toward the train to work. I wanted the distraction and the company more than I wanted to mourn.
I held my news until the end of the day when I told my boss. I had to tell her because I wasn't sure what travel plans I might need to make and how they would impact my day tomorrow. I took my time packing up and shuffled off to the subway.
On the train, I read blogs, checked email, sent email and played Words With Friends. I didn't sit still or quietly. I called my best friend on my walk home from the train and not a single sad thought was able to break through. I stopped at the store and bought some candy corns.
I arrived home and devoured the candy corns. I wasn't hungry, but I couldn't stop eating them until I felt queasy from too much sugar. I walked my dog and said hi to strangers I passed on the street. I made dinner and cleaned the kitchen. And the bathroom.
I sat down on the futon and closed my eyes, but I didn't sleep. Instead I sat still and quietly and began to feel sad, scared and alone in my big empty apartment. The unsympathetic echoes of my sobs hit my core like hail stones, sending cold concentric ripples of grief outward from there. I tried to hold time up, slow it down, but my son grew up and left home. I began to age. My mother figures died one by one until only my aunt and ex-stepmother remained. I came home from work and I sat sad, scared and alone.
Photo by basegreen