It has just occurred to me that I can slow down now. I’ve spent the past five weeks waiting for the other shoe to drop when possibly there is no there is no other shoe. Or, if there is it might be a long time coming so I might as well gear down a little. I don’t have to spend my nights with one ear open, I’m not on duty the moment I awake, I have time now. It doesn’t feel real, and it sure doesn’t feel quite “right” but I do, I have time. Time to read, time to draw, but most of all time to spend with my kids. Things are settling down now.
The little guy is still spending more time than I’d like on the computer, but me getting back into art may be inspiring him a little. I came downstairs one day last week to find him painting animation cells on page protectors. That’s something he hasn’t done for months. Can the clay be far behind? I hope not, but I’m not going to push, he’s coming along, and that’s good enough. He’s talking to me too, and that is very cool.
Baboo has been as resilient as a kid could be. Yes, he took it hard, he was Mom’s boy, but he also watched what she went through, how she got lost. I know I couldn’t have gotten by the last few weeks without him. He does devil the living shit out of his brother at least once a day, you know, just so I have something to remind me that I’m the Mom around here, but what else are kids for?
Dad can mostly play his music and not cry now. Okay, sometimes he still cries, but not all the time. Some days I still get weepy, and I imagine that’ll happen from time to time. Me and Dad both got weepy on his birthday last week, but there’s good things happening too. I can make him steak now, Mom couldn’t chew it, and he didn’t like eating it in front of her. Spicy foods that he loves, I’m making him lots of stuff like that. I upgraded his teevee box and package, we never did that before because the remote already baffled Mom. It’s little things that in no way can make up for her loss, but maybe are a small comfort.
We all seem to be settling into a new routine, and so far so good. I know it won’t be all smooth sailing, I have kids, and Dad is 80 years old. But the heavy pall feels like it’s lifting. I believe so, anyway.