Mopey

Dear Dad,

G3 has been cranky all day. It was our first day in a long time where we didn’t have anything planned. No Taekwondo. No Boy Scouts. Nothing. It wasn’t too cold and even though it was cloudy, it wasn’t raining, so I suggested we go out for a hike or go caching. G3 wanted to stay home. He woke up mopey and didn’t feel like getting off the couch. I went caching by myself. You know I hate staying home, staying inside. Kati said that the entire time I was out, G3 was in a bad mood. They played games, but G3 complained about everything—nothing seemed to be fair in his opinion. So Kati gave up, put the games away and G3 sank into the couch not wanting to move.

I’ve been down the last few days myself. I attributed it to work. Student apathy and seemingly unrealistic expectations make it harder and harder to get up. I’ve been feeling that for awhile, but this week it was worse. Every moment of every day—except when I was at Taekwondo—I felt like I was drowning. All I wanted to do was sleep. 

Then this afternoon, my memories popped up on Facebook, and suddenly everything made sense. The first memory, from three years ago, read: “G3 came home with a computer. Does this mean the school is expecting to close?” Apparently, my question was answered shortly after I asked it, because I then went on to post, “No school for G3 through Easter.” I also observed, “Disneyland is closed. You know it’s bad if Disney closes.” My final post of the day stated, “Things got crazy today. But tomorrow is Friday 13th. How much worse will they get.” I had no idea when I asked that question just how awful life would become. No clue of the darkness that would descend. In two weeks time, my world would be turned upside down. By Easter you would be dying and we—G3, Mom, and I—would be devastated. 

It was reading those posts that shed light on my son’s behavior and my own mindset. The beginning of spring, the season of renewal, the season that used to make me exceptionally happy, now ushers in a sense of doom, a feeling of loss. It’s embedded in my subconscious. I’m sure that’s why I’ve been more down that usual and why G3 is irritable. I’m not sure he’s aware of why he feels the way he does. But the change in weather, the change of the clocks, the sound of the birds, they bring me back to the darkness, those days of feeling completely helpless, and the hopelessness that seeped into our lives.

This is also the time of year we used to look forward to spending time with you in Mattituck during Spring Break. We can’t even go out there any more, because the house is no longer ours. It’s that double loss that multiplies the sorrow. Sometimes at night, I lay in bed thinking of Mattituck. I close my eyes and almost feel as if I am there. I walk through the house in my memory and I see you cooking breakfast. I hear G3 turning on the television and calling to you. I smell the fresh cut grass and the salty air. Sometimes, I fall asleep at a moment when it all seems so real. But inevitably, I wake up and I am here instead of there. I want so badly to have one more Easter with you, one more Spring in Mattituck, one more conversation. I’m sure G3 feels the same way. I know he misses that house even more than I do. And he misses you just as much as I do.  

I might have thought the missing would have gotten easier by now, but it hasn’t. I wonder if the beginning of spring will always be a trigger. 

I miss you now and forever!