I am happy to be back to my Monday though Friday routine. The weekend overwhelmed me, and I am happy to leave it behind. I was greeted by the always friendly receptionist this morning with cheery greeting and a “How was your weekend?” My reply was partially honest. “It was okay.” True to form, she fished for a little more, but I didn’t elaborate much more than that. She added that she was always happy that she didn’t have to work and that it enabled her to get just a little more sleep. I tried to fake a smile and agreed with her.
I *was* able to remain in bed a bit longer this past weekend, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. I meant to get up, but could not convince myself that wanted that. It left me scrambling to get the kids to their events, and for me to get my runs in.
On Saturday I managed to finally deposit checks deposited into the kids’ accounts finally. We have only had the checks since August but, like so many other things, they got lost in the shuffle. We got the costumes for Halloween too. BoBo pushed the urgency and I obliged. In the process, I let my toasted bagel filled with cream cheese go cold and then couldn’t stomach it. In turn, I was cranky and could not determine why. I nagged the kids and couldn’t stop myself. In the afternoon, I worked the snack shack at the Homecoming Game. 4 ½ hours of preparing nachos requires a lot of endurance and I did not have the energy as the afternoon came too quickly and I still had not eaten. The day ended with dinner with my Mom and then picking up BoBo and company at the school dance. It was past midnight when my head finally hit the pillow.
The scrambling continued on Sunday morning. I took the morning slow again and lost track of time reading blogs. I noticed the time with 30 minutes left before YaYa was due at flag football. We quickly dressed, drank a glass of milk and grabbed food for the road. It wasn’t enough to fill me up and I hoped that YaYa would be okay.
At his practice, I sat amongst the families feeling the walls of loneliness closing in on me. I tried to escape from it by calling family and friends but nobody seemed to be home or have their cell phones turned on. I watched YaYa run the plays, fumble the passes, and observing the father and son interactions taking place around him. Afterwards, he complained that none of the passes during the game were thrown to him. He said that his job was to stay out of the way. He’s a very smart kid; I had thought the same thing was happening. I reminded him that the ball is always being thrown high and since he is the youngest on the team that it would be hard to catch. I added that when the boys got better at throwing, and he got better at catching, that things might feel better on the field.
When I told YaYa that he would have to ride his bike with me while I did my 10 mile run, he complained with a vengeance. After sitting in the heat for 2 hours, this didn’t sit well with me. He *would* go with me regardless of whether he liked it. I pulled some seats from the van, loaded YaYa’s bike and then we piled in to take BoBo to part 2 of his job interview (observing at the Kids’ Gym that he was applying at). YaYa and I ate some sandwiches at Togos and then drove to the trail.
We returned home to find BoBo crashed out on the couch. The football game was on the TV. YaYa ran off to the neighbor’s house and returned a few minutes later with his friends. BoBo woke up and soon they were all in the front yard playing a game of football. At first everyone was having fun. Before long, however, YaYa was voicing his objections to BoBo’s rough tactics. At the same time, I was trying to talk on the phone to a good friend. I was distracted from the contact that all day I had longed for. I came in the house to find YaYa and BoBo in the bathroom where YaYa was getting verbally abused by BoBo. I stormed in and lost it on BoBo.
While YaYa and the gang ran off, the tension between BoBo and I built until finally BoBo had climbed out his window and ran off down the street.
I knew that BoBo needed time alone but it is so hard not to worry. There has been some gang activity near the mall area and I wasn’t sure where he would go. Sometimes I think that he feels invincible, but I don’t think that I could go on if something happened to BoBo or YaYa. Worry and hopelessness turned to anger. As I looked at the dirty coffee cups in my hand – the ones from the various places that Tom had worked. I thought of throwing them against the fence. I thought of throwing the other coffee cups too. They remind me of him, and of how he left me to raise these kids alone just when it was getting tough. I murmured, “I hate you,” and then began to cry because it is so far from the truth.
After a bit I found myself at the neighbor’s house being consoled with chocolate and a glass of Two Buck Chuck. Christine tried to explore if the turmoil between BoBo and I was new, whether BoBo was in grief support too, and how I was doing in general. I told her that my life “sucked,” that I had a lot to be thankful for (the kids, my job, etc.), but in spite of making it, that I felt inadequate all of the time. She asked what she could do. “The thing is,” I told her, “I don’t know what anyone can do.” Christine and, her husband, Jeff *have* been helping me all along. They provide a safe place for the kids to go, they would be there to pick up the kids if I needed them, they are there when I need to talk.
BoBo did come home. Jeff went down to talk with him for a couple of minutes and then came back. BoBo took a bit more time, and then joined us for dinner. Then he and Jeff went to the other room to watch football together and allowed the merlot to sooth my aches and pains.
I know that I *am* doing better but, just when I think I’ve reached a happy point, grief happens.