Tuesday, 30 August 2016

The last 24

We are now under the twenty four hour mark.  I am a total mess.  In less than a day I will leave my son, my baby boy in the big city.  All alone, in his apartment, in an unfamiliar neighborhood and I will walk away.  Letting him adjust to life, to being an adult and a college student.  I am a total mess.

I know that this is the end goal.  That this is the way that life is supposed to go.  We have children and raise them to be capable adults who can function on their own.  Who go to college and move out.  That doesn’t make it any easier.  My heart hurts.

This will change the dynamic of our family, the entire feel of my home.  Thing 1 has always had a big personality that fills our home.  He thinks he’s funny, I am constantly groaning as he puns his way through any situation.  We’ve even joked about whether we should start a drinking game that every time he makes a pun we have to take a drink.  However it was decided that that would have everyone too drunk.

As a mother I am so proud of him for everything that he is accomplishing and for him following his dreams.  But as a mother I am also incredibly worried.  Terrified even.  Will he be okay?  What if he gets lost?  What if he’s lonely?  What if he doesn’t do well at school?  What if school isn’t what he thought it would be?  All these thoughts and more are stampeding through my brain on repeat.  At points it feels as though I can’t breathe for the paralyzing anxiety.

Thing 1 was my first foray into being a real adult.  I had him when I was twenty three and it was the first time I had to be responsible for anyone besides myself.  Although I wanted a girl, when he was born he lit up my world.  When he was six or seven we noticed that he was different from other kids.  At age 10 he was diagnosed with a mild form of Asperger’s.  For those not in the know, Asperger’s is on the autism spectrum.  The children who have Asperger’s have a very hard time with social interaction, their brains are not wired the same way as the majority of people.  They don’t understand social cues, or make eye contact regularly.  There are also a number of other symptoms.  They aren’t slow, most are in fact quite gifted when it comes to school classes.  We have worked very hard over the past number of years to make sure that he is as adjusted as can be.  That being said we still have a lot of issues, things that have to be explained in a different way so that Thing 1 will understand them.   He doesn’t adjust well to change and becomes overwhelmingly frustrated when things don’t work the way he thinks they should.  As the parent of an Asperger’s child my paranoia and worry had been increased.  What if he can’t deal?  How can I help him the way I always have when I am a two hour drive away?  Gah.  Maybe things are worse because of this and maybe not.  They might have been just as bad if he was a “normal” teenage boy.  I don’t know.  All I know is how I feel.

Also adding to my worry is the pure naïve nature of my son.  He always wants to do the right thing.  Prime example.  For background information – he worked at the Coffee Culture.  He worked the closing shift most nights.  One night he calls me just before midnight.
T1 panic in his voice – “Mom.  I need you to come pick me up.”
Me – “Um.  Okay but why?”
T1 – “I was cleaning the bathrooms and I found a back pack.”
Me – “Okay….”
T1 – “Yeah full of money, like ten thousand dollars and also a passport.”
Me – “Okay… but why do you need me?”
T1 – “So we can return it to the address on the passport after I close.”
Me – “No.  We are not driving to a strangers house in the middle of the night.  You need to call the police.”
T1 – “Oh.  Okay.”

He had no idea that it is not normal for average people to carry around ten grand in cash.  It never crossed his mind that the owner of this cash might have some nefarious purpose.  He didn’t bat an eye about knocking on a potential drug dealers house at nearly one in the morning.  These are the thoughts that never even crossed his mind.

And this dear readers only adds to my fears.  This honest, kind, open kid is moving to Toronto.  Gah.  I think I need a paper bag to breathe into.  I know I’ll get through this but DAMN it’s not going to be easy.

Friday, 26 August 2016

My Scooter, Luci

I was incredibly lucky to have Mr. Gloria buy me a scooter for my fortieth birthday, a total surprise but very pleasant.  I had always planned to get a scooter but two things held me back.  First is the fact that I am a cheap bastard and couldn’t stomach putting the money out on it.  And second I wanted my ass to be a little less wide before straddling a scooter and riding around town.  ANYWAYS.   Mr. Gloria took the wishy-washy nature of me and ended the question.  He bought me a beautiful blue scooter.  I named her Luci.  Short for “Luciole” which is French for Firefly.  My little way to pull my geekiness into her name.  Joss Whedon forever!!


But I digress, I ride my scooter faithfully.  Most days once the snow has left I can be found riding my baby to and from work.  She parks on the sidewalk just outside my work (and saves me countless amounts of money – I haven’t gotten a single parking ticket since Luci came into my life) I can see her from the window all day long.


So yesterday I had just finished up my lunch and was heading back into the branch when I, of course, glanced over to see how Luci was faring for the day.  Low and behold beside her was this Dude.  He was on his own scooter.  Not nearly as pretty as my Luci but a scooter non the less.  So this guy is busy checking Luci out.  And I mean checking her out.  He sat there eyeballing her up and down.  Moving to see her fender better.  A slight smile on his face as he ogled her headlights.  A good five minutes, he checked her out, as I walked up the street and entered my branch. 


As I saw this I was left with a feeling of unease.  Almost violation.  Why was this man checking out my baby?  Leering at her with such lust in his eyes.  I can honestly say I have never felt like that.  He was so obvious, so disturbing that I couldn’t help the shudder that wracked my body.


Then I realized that although I think of her as a sentient being Lucy is just a machine.  And he was longing for her in a jealous way.  He wished he could have a scooter as awesome as mine.  And with that I smiled and let it go

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to dammit.

The last few weeks have been crazy.  And here I thought when we finished the move that we would be able to relax…apparently not. 


I turned 42 last week.  While this birthday didn’t bring terror and tears or anything I’m not sure how I feel about the ripe old age I have achieved.  I had a great time, doing exactly what I wanted for a low-key, quiet celebration.  Hanging with friends, lots of laughter and generally a great time.  I’m not horrified by the age, being forty two is really different than I would have thought.  I would have expected me to break down.  To be a blubbering mess, but I wasn’t.  Instead I found myself calm and quite chill (the total opposite of me normally so this was definitely odd. 


The hardest part of any birthday is celebrating without my mom.  Wanting her there will never cease, it never goes away.  On special moments the ache is just, well worse.  She would laugh at me I know and tell me to suck it up.  That this is the way life is and that I need to get over it.  Get over it.  So much easier said than done.  I try so hard to be normal, to accept that this is the hand that life has dealt my family but I really am not okay.  It’s been eleven nearly twelve years and I am still not okay.  A piece of me is gone and it won’t ever come back.  I fake it well, on the face of things I appear normal.  Well as normal as can be anyways.  But inside I’m not.  There are so many moments that I would love to call my mom and ask her advice, chat with her, vent to her, anything.  And I can’t.  It’s moments like these that I have a hard time with envy.  I envy my friends who can call and talk with their moms.  They mention it and I know they don’t intend to be mean but every time it’s like a knife to my heart.  Not that I want them to lose their parent I just want mine back.  I’m 42 and feel like an orphan.  I guess one never gets over the loss of a loved one.  And a mother daughter relationship is special. 


Wow.  Morose post today…sorry for that.  Hope you all can excuse my teariness.  With Thing 1 moving the end of the month I am feeling very on edge and close to tears at all times.  I wonder how my mom felt when I moved away and then this whole stream of selfishness and sadness encompasses me and I can’t escape.  AHh… there I go again.  Damn it.  I better sign off while I’m not a blubbering mess.  Until next time.