Tiny Tornado in the Tub

Dear Ian,

Well, I am pretty sure that I’ve found out the hard way that making myself busy does nothing more but bring you more into focus. No matter what I do to fill up my time, there you are with your ol’ lopsided smile on that cute freckled face. I turn on the radio (or read a book or sleep) and hey, there you are.

And here I am. I miss you.

First off, don’t worry. According to Grandma’s psychic, you are concerned for me. Let me just say that I know there is no worry in the ether so please give the psychic some clarity because now Grandma is now worried about me and you know how that goes. For some reason, I just know you are just basking in all that peace and understanding where you are presently. Sigh.

Excuse me? I’m sorry. Are you shaking your head at me? Don’t you shake your head at me because I’m still trying to figure things out here on the physical plane while you get the good, uncomplicated times in the ether. Mister, I am still your mom.

Ok, yes, I agree, you are now currently the one who is wiser at this point knowing all of life’s mysteries and such. Sure, sure, sure. Go ahead, rub it in. Gloat. I know you are just getting me back for the times I made you eat broccoli and fried tofu. Enjoy this moment. Bask in all that knowledge. Go hang out with some cool spirits. No, no, I’ll wait. I’ll balance the checkbook or something mundane while you flutter around being all zen and crap.

I am not bitter.

And I’m not feeling haunted. (Oh, how very Victorian…maybe you’ll make a table move. Or rattle chains). No, there’s just this incredible emptiness. Remember when you were little and after bath, I’d take the stopper out of the tub and the water would start draining? Do you remember that God-awful noise sucking noise that accompanied the tiny water tornado in the drain? Perhaps you don’t remember because at that point you had scaled my legs to get away from that noise. But that’s what I feel like. Yes, I know. Pretty scary, huh? Makes you want to run away and hide under a towel, doesn’t it? Everything has drained and it sucks (yes, I am aware of the pun but thanks for the reminder) and there is turbulence. It’s small but it’s there just right underneath the surface. Dude, I feel like this all the time.

Well, without the actual sucking noise. Can you imagine if I could go around doing a sucking noise based on mood? Let’s chuckle about this for a moment. If you were here, I know you would demonstrate all sorts of possible noises from burps to arm farts. And I would laugh. Actually, first, I would act appalled but pretty much go into hysterics from there.

I mourn you. I mourn your loss and your potential.

I mourn me. I am different. Who knew? It’s true that a part of you goes away. I’m trying to find my way as this new person and I’m not so sure of what I’m doing. I’m really lost. But I’ll figure it out. Maybe the good news is that I know now that I cannot go back to who I was. I tried. I really did. I gave it 110%. But it didn’t work. I’m grasping at straws and reaching and scared as hell. Growing up is hard. I’m doing all the work. How did that happen? C’mon. No fair. You always knew how to get out of doing all the hard stuff. Yeesh.

You are with me, I know.

And I am also with you.

Love,

Mom