Monday, March 30, 2015

Microblog Monday - Glimpse of Life

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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.  



Junebug said...

It was beautiful. Thanks for sharing.

Lollipop Goldstein said...

Is it wrong that even in the sadness of the last thought, there is also a beauty in a mother caring for her son?

The separation in the house is the whole ideology behind the way the Amish live. That all those restrictions are meant to keep people in the same room, focused on one another.

Delenn said...

Interesting ideology. Being as our family is a bunch of introverts I could see that not really working they way they intended. I firmly believe there is time we all need to be on our own. And there are times we all need to be together. I actually liked how we came home from the musical and went our separate ways--our need for our individuality. Although I may not have described it well, it was a perfectly normal/nice Sunday late afternoon thing. (It was the evening that went downhill!) :-)