Hollow

Today, I saw a t-shirt that said “Metaphors Be With You,” written in a “Star Wars” font. While I haven’t been very communicative lately with anyone other than my sons, I immediately complimented the woman on her shirt. The slogan perfectly expressed the hollowness I’ve been feeling lately.

Moose left for computer camp ten days ago. Wild Thing left for leadership camp five days ago, and Wizard is busy continuing to fail classes in summer session at college. I found myself  utterly alone in my cavernous home. When Casa Zona (the Zone house) was filled with all my  men, it felt so alive. It was trashed, mind you, but vibrating with the sounds of teenage boys and their dad. At any given time I’d hear someone playing guitar  or honking the saxophone, the dulcet strains of HGTV and Food Network shows, or the raunchy lyrics and laughter of  YouTube videos. 

When WineGuy died, the melody left my life. When the boys left home, the harmony was gone, too. I could hardly bear the deafening silence I craved during the boisterous years of the boys’ youth. I missed the noise, yet any noise irritated me:  an awful paradox. And so, I find myself perfectly alone on a vacation I insisted I wanted to take by myself, and I’m beginning to understand the incessant prattle of my mother, who was widowed eight years ago. With no one around to talk to, I’m grateful for any human contact. That is, I’m grateful for people who reach out to speak with me, but I am not remotely interested in phoning any friends “just to talk”. 

It’s very weird:  I only want certain people to engage me in conversation. I’m delighted to hear updates from Moose and Wild Thing at camp, but every conversation with Wizard catapults me into paroxysms of frustration and grief for WineGuy. An intense discussion with Sprite about books and writing was far more nurturing than a recent dinner with Belle and Calvin, which felt more like an intervention than a fun girls’ night. I am brittle and empty, and I don’t know what to do with myself. If WineGuy were with me on this vacation, we’d be out running and exploring from dawn til dusk. He always filled in the details of the big picture I painted. Now, I have to do that for myself, and I’m paralyzed in that hollow space between desire and inertia.

Distracted

I have plenty of new medical news to share about WineGuy, but I’m the sole driver in the house again. Running every which way and tending to household chores is frying my brain.

Instead of writing something meaningful in this blog, I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been playing Bubble Witch in my few spare minutes. The evil hags bring out my inner bitch who has been battling this week with Comcast and the health insurance company, those soul-sucking vampires.

Disease Diary (Part 1)

In May 2013, WineGuy drove to Orlando to attend a medical convention. He returned home with a wealth of knowledge and a large, unsightly growth in his thigh. He put himself on a course of antibiotics and said nothing to me.

Moody Monday

My husband is seriously ill, yet he continues to start up with Wizard … in my presence … which I have asked him specifically not to do. I don’t really want to side with Wizard, but WineGuy needs to respect my wishes.

As a caregiver, I’m not supposed to get angry with the patient. But when he deliberately starts up, just to drive home a point, what am I supposed to do? I just want to scream. Frankly, the best advice I’ve received on this topic is from a friend undergoing breast cancer treatment. She’s been more understanding and empathetic than my own husband.

Sometimes nothing makes sense.

Library Louse

It’s the first Tuesday in November. I don’t have much on my mind today … except for the future of my country and my friend’s state house race in Nevada. I came to the public library this morning to check out a book and waste a little time before meeting a friend for lunch. I signed up to use a public computer, and I find myself seated next to the weirdo of all weirdos.

General Germophobe sits next to me viewing all kinds of strange Manga. His right hand is encased in a plastic sandwich bag as he trolls the Internet. I keep catching slightly disturbing images in my peripheral vision. I swear he’s auto-stimulating himself because I hear him breathing hard or grunting regularly. Ew and EW!!

Sorry for the cursory post, but I’m going to puke if I sit next to this guy any longer.

Awkward

This morning I took Wild Thing and Moose to attend the last Bar Mitzvah of WT’s class. Although only WT was invited to the synagogue service and party, anyone can attend Shabbat services; so, Moose and I tagged along. I got this idea from seeing some of my acquaintances stay for WT’s Bar Mitzvah service in June. I figured “what’s the harm?”

At any rate, the classmate did a terrific job. I congratulated the parents, whom I know well and who welcomed me to the luncheon afterward. As I lunched with my friends, they were discussing what they were wearing to the Bar Mitzvah party tonight; some were rushing off to have their hair blown out. As each woman left the table, she said, “I’ll see you tonight!” Instead of just nodding my head, I felt compelled to reply each time, “We weren’t invited to the party. You’ll see WT there.” Awkward silence followed each reply.

What was I supposed to do? I answered honestly. I understand you can’t invite the immediate world to a Bar Mitzvah, but I still felt badly. Honesty or tact? Hmmm, tough choice.

Moms Just Wanna Have Fun

What ever happened to fun — spontaneous, unscripted, unscheduled fun? I think we moms lost it in the Machiavellian schedule that is contemporary life. Well, dammit, moms need to have fun, too, and we don’t want to plan it!

Two cases in point: my 50th birthday is in a couple of months, and my husband asked if I wanted a party. And then he tried to rope me into planning it: where, when, who, how. NFW! Call the damn party planner from WT’s Bar Mitzvah. I am NOT planning my own birthday party. In all likelihood, there will not be a party.

Second case, more successful. This afternoon WT and Moose wanted me to come swimming with them. I dragged my feet for a while and then joined them in the pool. I tried to bask in the sun while soaking my feet and reading. That lasted four nanoseconds.

I put the book away and started throwing the football with my boys. What fun! We threw and caught and jumped and splashed and laughed half the afternoon away. I must remember to do this again very soon. I highly recommend you get out there and have some fun today, too.