Day 125

I don’t feel well. I’ve been nauseous and I’ve had a horrible headache since yesterday. I’m not sure what’s causing it. I’ve been drinking lots of water so I doubt it’s dehydration. Maybe it is anxiety. What does my future hold? I’m tired of having no direction, no success. Mom is worried I’ve relapsed or its another bout with Covid. I think she is just worrying. I was much worse back in April.

Yesterday it was a cloudy and cool day with a few sprinkles throughout the late morning and early afternoon. Instead of going to the beach, Mom and my son stayed in and worked on a 750 piece jigsaw puzzle. In less than eight hours they completed it. They said it was one of the harder ones they have worked on. The frame is not a rectangle which made constructing the outline a bit of a challenge.

Today we went to the Treasure Beach. Mom read the essay and said she wanted to go. She said that in having lost a fair amount of weight since Dad died her legs didn’t bother her so much. I think she wanted to go because she knows it’s one of the few places where my son finds any solace and she didn’t want to prevent it. But the beach made her sad. My son likes sitting in a different place than we used to sit as a family. He likes hanging out by the cove that forms on the side of the inlet. Mom was happy not to sit where Dad always sat. The memories of him being there and being happy were too sharp. They cut too deeply. Mom couldn’t even bring herself to walk over to that part of the beach when my son and I swam across the inlet. But she did come into the water for awhile. Hanging on to her noodle she floated next to my son who sat in his tube. The three of us in the water together made Dad’s absence noticeable. Mom looked up into the sky, at the clouds, “Do you think your father’s up there watching over us.” My son responded, “If he is he’s just watching me, because he misses me.” Mom sighed, tears in her eyes, “If he were here, he’d probably be complaining that he was cold.” I chuckled. It was a hot day. The water was warm, but Mom was correct. The last several years Dad was often cold in the water. On most occasions, he got out before the rest us in order to warm up.

My son spent much of the afternoon complaining about vacation — the one we took last year and the one we hope to take in a couple of weeks. He claims I make him to do much. I make him see everything. It’s not fair that I don’t ever let him have a day to just relax. I thought that’s what he did in Cape Cod and out here in Long Island. But he wants more down time while we are traveling. If only we had the money to simply sit around hotels doing nothing. But we don’t. If we’re spending money we really don’t have, it’s got to have some purpose. Sometimes I miss the days when I got to travel alone. Yes, there were times I wished I had company, but when I was on my own no one ever complained. I could do what I wanted without having to appease other people. I could eat what I wanted. I could take the hikes that interested me. Don’t misunderstand me. I love spending time with my son, I enjoy family vacations, but if I’m the only one fully enjoying them, are they worth taking? When I was kid I looked forward to summer vacations more than I looked forward to Christmas. I loved going away. Nothing made me happier. But maybe Mom is right, maybe my son gets too much — Cape Cod (care of his uncle), Long Island (care of his grandmother), a road trip — and so he doesn’t appreciate what he has. 

For dinner we made one of Dad’s favorite meals — marinated shrimp on the barbecue. We made it because it also happens to be one of my favorites. It’s still odd being the one standing in front of the grill in charge of cooking. I still half expect Dad to walk up behind me, lift the tongs out of my hand, and completely take over. I want him to take over because it’s lonely standing at the grill, missing him. And the empty chair at the dinner table makes us all sad. 

And the news continues to infuriate me. Florida is at 122% ICU capacity. In Texas, 85 babies have tested positive for Covid. Cuomo warned New Yorkers that we need to be vigilant because the virus could easily come back from the west and the south, the states that seemed to think they were immune and are now suffering. The death toll stands at roughly 142,000 and this morning on CNN they said that a new projection has 157,000 dead by August 8. So many dead who didn’t have to die. So many empty chairs at dinner tables. At dinner this evening Mom said, “That last night with your father, I think he was scared. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t want me to let go of him and that was very unlike him.” Dad was scared and he had to go into the hospital room alone. “You have no idea,” Mom added, “how much it bothers me that I couldn’t sit at his bedside. You have no idea how much it hurts that I couldn’t be with him.” But I do know. I know very well because I wanted to be there too. Dad was there to comfort me so many times when I had been scared, but in his last days, the virus prevented me from giving him any comfort. And every time I hear about people dying that’s all I can think about, Dad dying alone.