I feel some better and let me just say right here and right now that I have the most precious friends on earth and that includes you, yes you, and thank-you.
You know who you are and hello, I love you. I love you true.
Here's what I think is going on.
Jessie's leaving. And as we all know, I'm not dealing with that real well.
Each of my kids left at some point, although Lily only went across town and Jessie, too, for that matter, when she started college but when you can get home in twenty minutes, it's not really that traumatic for anyone.
We all know this. And we all know that I am 100% into Jessie leaving because Jessie needs to spread those long gorgeous wings of hers and make her journey into this world and she has a man who loves her and they're going to make a home together and try that on for size and I love everything about that plan.
I don't even mind driving to see them.
That will be good too.
But. When Hank and May were little, like two and four or something, I separated and then divorced from their father and because it drove me to the point of madness when they had to go to their father's house (which I wanted them to do, I desperately wanted him to be part of their lives and he was and it's been so good that he has and continues to be so) I had to do this disassociation thing to preserve my sanity.
I had to drop them off and say good-bye and then somehow convince myself that I had no children. Of course I didn't really convince myself of that. It was impossible. But perhaps I did some sort of splitting thing- something that worked for me at the time but looking back, I realize it was not healthy.
And I believe that I am still doing that when one of my children takes off.
It's part of my bones now.
And this before-part- this part where Jessie is still here but is certainly going and plans are being made for her graduation and for her moving is a sort of limbo, a sort of well, I'd almost describe it as purgatory.
It is honestly going to be easier when she's gone.
Because right now I feel like every time I see her I not only have to admit that yes, she is quite real and that she is my daughter, I also have to fight the urge to just...okay, I don't know what. Does ingest her sound too weird? I was just talking to May about this and she reminded me of Where The Wild Things Are and how the monsters tell Max when he is leaving, "We'll eat you up we love you so!"
Do I want to put her back in the womb? My pocket? Do I want to tuck her into my overalls and keep her safe because I honestly believe that that very emotion- the need to keep my child safe- is the one that has tormented me with any separation whether the children were babies or whether they have been adults?
And believe you me- I know with every fiber of my being that I cannot keep my babies safe even if they are only twenty minutes away. This has, as I keep saying, NOTHING AT ALL TO DO WITH LOGIC.
It's a form of insanity I came up with to prevent me from being insane.
It's not really working.
It's not really healthy.
But. It is what it is. And some days it's just going to be harder than others.
I found myself after my walk eating my lunch in front of the Real Housewives of New York which is crap, crap, crappity McCrap! but it soothed me. Okay, it anesthetized me. And I thought that I could probably just sit there all day long, watching the McCrap of rich bitches but I didn't. I went to town and bought some Easter Basket stuff for Owen and went to the seafood store and bought shrimp and went to Goodwill and fell in love with a little Peruvian or something boy and went to Publix and got horseradish and pears and string cheese and green beans and when I got home, people had called to check on me and then May called and we talked and we laughed and my god, how that helps.
Because that girl went away. Oh boy. Did she go away.
And she came back.
And she calls me and we laugh and we laugh and it's going to be the same with Jessie. One way or another.
And May reminding me of the monsters and how they wanted to eat Max because they loved him so made me feel so much better somehow. Like maybe I'm just a wild thing and not a monster.
Owen's coming tomorrow and no time for the blues with him around. And on Sunday we're going to Lily's house for egg hunting and brunch and won't that be lovely? Lily will host the party and I'll bring angel biscuits, and the torch, for this year at least, will be passed, and I will love all those babies of mine so much that I'll want to eat them up.
But I won't. I'll eat some ham (HAM!) casserole and biscuits and fruit instead.
And right now I hear that Mr. Moon has gotten his Cutlass started out in the garage. I hear its deep throaty growl across the yard and there- there's something to look forward to. Me and Mr. Moon in the Cutlass, the top down, us driving somewhere together, our time at last.
Maybe we'll be driving to Asheville, North Carolina. Maybe we'll be driving to Las Vegas.
But that old American car will eat up the miles and we'll smile, smile, smile.
Okay. Please bear with me. I'm in the middle of a process. I may not be dealing with it in the best way, but I'm dealing. And I'm not alone.
Neither are you. Whatever process you're in the middle of. You are not alone.
And there's no shame in it, whatever it is. We are animals and we are humans and we are monsters and we have fears and we have very, very sad times and we can peek out of the curtains and say help and it'll somehow be okay.
It's all part of the process. A least this is the theory I'm working with now.