In a month and a half it will be my birthday and the anniversary of Jake’s disappearance. Three years. 1,095 days. No sign of him, still. I often think about his last text to me, in which he said, Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you. The text is saved on a phone I don’t use… Read More 1,050 days missing
Part 1: October 21, 2018 I’m still not in. Not mentally. Not in my body. Not in my sanity. Rollercoaster is a cliche. “Being on a roller-coaster” doesn’t fit any experience like this because 1) you choose to get on roller-coasters, and 2) you can get off. I’m on fire and grey-cold. You know how your… Read More The October 2018 Files
When I calculated the days for this year so far, I was surprised that it’s only been 148 days since May 1. Two years ago on this date, Jake had only been missing 148 days. That doesn’t seem very long. I don’t really live in days, anyway. If you calculate minutes, 148 days = 213,120… Read More 878 days missing
I am embarking on a trip in a few days that will lead me to connect with my past in good ways, and I am in full panic mode. I’m half convinced I’m going to die, the same way I used to feel in the past when I went over bridges. I read years ago… Read More Write Rite Right of Passage
I haven’t written, but this ain’t me: By vice of hermitry, I rarely venture out of the house unless I absolutely must. I’ve become a hermit because of grief, and I’ve yet to ascertain whether this is to my detriment. Today I was reminded of the outside world and others who care about Jake, and… Read More 780 days
I have to get up early tomorrow and do range duty as Chief Range Safety Officer for a group of men visiting from out of town. I’ve been doing RSO duties for a long time now, and this is not a big deal. But I do not want to go. I would rather hole up… Read More How to deal
Dread has a light touch. I’ve been told that Jake does not appear in databases after early 2016. He is smart enough to be off the grid on his own terms, and hope says yeah. But chances are growing that he isn’t living in the wilderness, isn’t bedraggled and scorned in some inner city grayness,… Read More The thing with feathers
I have never been able to open up those Pillsbury roll cans. I have walked outside and gone to a neighbor’s house and asked someone to open the can out of my earshot and then bring it back to me on the porch. I cannot bear not knowing when the can will pop. (I quit… Read More Antici
I’m thinking out loud here. I waffle about posting about what I’m thinking and feeling about my son being missing. I am not adding any new information, and much of what I share is about what I deal with emotionally day by day. It’s repetitive. The grief never subsides, although my awareness of it ebbs… Read More Brain real estate at a premium right now
*Jake has not been found. Thank you for checking. A phrase keeps going through my head: “give voice to bear.” That phrase makes no sense to me but I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere. I looked it up, and Google has no idea what I’m talking about. It did, however, point me toward… Read More Giving Voice to Bear