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Add Black to the Red, White and Blue

on 4 July, 2018

Today, for some reason, is a very bad day for me. Black. Hopeless. Lost.

Maybe its the preparation of tearing apart everything that has been built for the past 14 years. Selling it off piece by piece, much like it was put together.

What happens now? I just don’t see any real point to it all anymore. When you’re young and just starting out, everything seems possible. Everything IS possible. Family, jobs, homes, vacations… memories.

What happens when that all starts to unravel? I think I sort of saw this coming about a year or so ago. Something, a feeling, a certain sadness starting creeping into things. The stress of all the surgeries and recoveries. all of the time off from working. The bills and the stress of the loss of monies into the house.

You can’t live with that kind of stress, loneliness, depression without it taking its toll. On you, on everyone.

Looking back, it was a coincidence, luck or just the timing, but I am so thankful for the time I got to spend with him, being off work. We didn’t do a lot, but what we did, we did together. Mostly.

I keep myself busy, well sort of busy, doing all these little tasks. Its just one after another, but as they accumulate, they start inflicting all sorts of emotions. Emptiness. The sum total of our lives dissected into tiny little portions. What’s the saying? The total is worth more than the sum of its parts? But what happens when all the little pieces start to disappear?

But on the other hand, it seems like a clean slate. A way to start all over. Unfortunately, being this old takes its measure on starting a life over. And so many options, so many choices, so many decisions.

Mostly I think that this seems too fast. Unfortunately, the time off last year has weighed heavy on the household. From a financial aspect. Which means that I need a well paying job right fucking now or I will lose the house. And the house has been stuffed full of stuff – you know, the things you collect over the years. The little things you bring into the house one or two at a time.

And if you know me, the über-organized person, I managed to use up every knock and cranny steath-fully organized down to the very last inch. I suppose in a way, you could call me a really organized hoarder. Many things were bought in anticipation of a larger project. Which seemed a good reason to buy small things again and again and again. Not really keeping a good mental inventory until there were more than one could ever hope to do something with and by that time, the idea’s time had come and gone.

So, on to the next something and building towards another venture. Repeat and restart. Again and again.

The loss of my son – my best friend and funnest cohort – was a real blow. To everything that is me. I seem to have lost even the thinnest of the threads of dreaming, planning and hoping. All I see is down and dark and frightening. And mostly lonely.

It occurred to me the other day that I have lost the one, repeatedly, unending source of physical touch… a hug or holding my hand or my goodnight kiss. It may be why everything seems so, so hopeless and dark. I am beyond any idea of what is means to be lonely. I think I’ve figured out why widows end up in these little groups. They are at least of some comfort to one another.

Which of course, lead to another thought; something I’d heard long ago and filed for future reference: “Women have sex to get affections while men give affection to get sex.”

Now, I know this is a generalization, but when I first heard it, it didn’t make much sense to me. But I was young and affection wasn’t in short supply. Well, neither was sex, for that matter. But without my son, my affection supply is in short supply and in dire threat of running dry.

I am not sure where this was going. It just occurred to me that while sorting through and laying my life literally on tables, that I am running short on life. And I cannot imagine that my life would be this way for another five years. Ten years. Longer?

It really scares the shit out of me.

Streeter's Mom Final


One response to “Add Black to the Red, White and Blue

  1. geoffmitch says:

    You’re not alone in feeling alone. I expect there are millions of people that, even without the loss you’ve suffered, feel that way. That’s one really good thing about the internet, there are options and opportunities to reach out and connect, stay in touch, share, and be supported. You’re ‘fresh start’ might be the last thing you want, but I hope that you are able to keep as balanced as possible until things stabilize. My options to help you find work are limited but use my linkedin and if you find any connections to opportunities in any manner, let me know.

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