Grief slipstream

The past couple of days have been difficult.

I’m not always skilled at knowing what I’m feeling. And sometimes the feelings have a delayed arrival, so that further complicates things. It’s taken two days for me to recognize that I shifted into the Bad Mom space,  my parallel universe. I’m in the slipstream of grief, and all it takes is a small rock in my path to knock me out of right now into the other.

I discovered in a rarely-used gmail account an email from people who were putting huge effort into finding Jake. It was a request for my input on a map of Jake’s known haunts. They had one small misconception (an old address that is not relevant).
I answered as soon as I read it, of course, but as Jake’d say, that train sailed.

I had to drive to campus yesterday, something I’ve been avoiding without really knowing why.
I understood when I got to Cole Road in Calexico.
Denny’s on Cole Road is where I left Jake. Where I didn’t know I was saying goodbye for longer than a couple of days.

My line of sight was blocked by a mongo semi, and it was my relief at that that made me realize 1) why I’d avoided coming to Calexico, and 2) that I needed to find an alternate route to work.

So now that I’m all current on my feelings I’ve been noodling on what my youngest said about Jake cutting me off three years ago.  (I wrote about that when it happened, here. )

With his extended absence, I waffle between thinking he’s dead, thinking he’s homeless and delirious, or thinking he’s a nomad out to find himself.  The ache’s the same, but the excavation I did three years ago [see link above] is unnecessary this time. This is all mom stuff.

So: navigation. You think you know how to make your way through things.

2 Commentsto Grief slipstream

  1. D says:

    Thinking of you, my friend. Get together next week?

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