Sometimes I don't have time to write it down, sometimes it is too delicate to write about. Sometimes I realize that my blog sits here and some of the more tough and touching moments are lost.
Here is a glimpse of life from yesterday in bullets:
- We went to a high school musical. It was not my son's high school. (It will never be my son's high school) We enjoyed the Music Man, I had that feeling of nostalgia and bittersweet. I also was callus in my appraisal of the singers and sets, more than I thought I would be. (Is this because I have gotten so old, or is it because I have been spoiled by so many professional theater productions?) We had fun, but I felt a bitter taste in my mouth, as I remembered the productions in my high school (much better--is that reality or memory?) and the remembrances of times past (going to my first high school musical with my Grammie--Carousel)
- Everyone goes off on their own when we get home. The teenager upstairs in his room. The nearly seven year old plays with her toys. I listen to the house (still lost in thoughts of the past and present)
- We have people over. Technical issues with Skype/Google. (we still try to cling to our Michigan connections...our friends we wish were closer)
- The Teenager has an issue with his computer notebook. He gets frustrated. He gets belligerent. He cannot cope with his frustrations. He is a teenager. He has aspergers. It proves to be an explosive combination tonight. (Will he ever be able to deal with these frustrations appropriately? What can I do? Why can't he be normal? The guilt over that last question haunts me.) The explosion spills over to our company--we decide to reschedule our game. (Things will be better--he will learn how to cope--I need to feel this and know that this is true--and I know logically it will be. It will be.)
- Meanwhile, the seven year old has been obliviously watching The Book of Life. She comes up to me and says that she will always remember me in her heart...even after I die. (Really? More mortality and bittersweet for the end of the day?) (So cute and profound...and so fleeting is my six, almost seven year old)
- Bedtime and all are asleep. Except the anxious teenager, not upset anymore, just anxiety-ridden, restless. He lays in our bed, I lay next to him and hug him.