Life can be so very complicated.
You're looking at a 'textbook case' kind of guy.
Me.
Sometimes the best way to straighten out the mess in your head is to go back and replay it, one step at a time.
And at times, that can be difficult.
Less than a week ago, a hazy lifetime ago, is the point in which someone pulled a bag over my head, spun me round and round in circles, and then released me to stumble along and find my way.
The 16th, to be exact.
I know, I know; how can one life be so dramatically altered in 5 days?
Well, let's open up our copies of Cookbook for Whiners and just see if we can't find a recipe worth sulking over.
First, you'll need to pre-bake your casserole a few weeks in advance with generous portions of anxiety and fear over the 5 month long departure of your boyfriend to Costa Rica, a new and far away location.
Second, on the day of departure, add bittersweet tears and long goodbyes.
Third, add a pinch of desperation each day for probably weeks, waiting for a phone call each night.
Fourth, and lastly, toss in lots and lots of grief, despair, and agonizing pain over the death of your two year old nephew the day after one of the most key people in your life to lean on has flown thousands of miles away.
Success, now you're cookin'!
You'll be an emotional wreck in no time!
These past five days have been a blur. Part of it is literal; when you're crying as much as I've been, the world tends to appear like it's all underwater. The other half is emotional; it's hard to keep your head on straight when you have so many things weighing it down.
My boyfriend, Jesse, is something of a Renaissance Man. He will go anywhere to explore a new place or visit perfectly good old ones. He loves to make things, from worn-for-two-days bracelets, to unique necklaces, to full blown arrow quivers. His smile is warm and always ready and he almost quite literally radiates goodwill and happiness, like some sort of nuclear power plant...without all the mutations.
He left for Costa Rica and won't be back until December. Damn the luck, eh?
I'm unspeakably excited for Jesse because he'll probably get to do and see more in 5 months down in Costa Rica than most people get to do in years. At the same time though, here in my little slice of the world of Northern Kentucky, it's as if the sun has decided to take a rather long hibernation. After only 5 days, I miss him...a lot. I often wonder if he thinks of and misses me as much as I do him.
However, he's only part of the reason my world has been lost at sea these past few days. The larger and more devastating reason is because of my nephew, Gabriel, who passed away on the 17th. He was only two years old and was a punk. A cute punk. He was the sort of child to scream and jump up and down and play all day and climb everything, all endless energy. He probably got it all from siphoning it from those closest to him. He was a handful. But even as he sucked out all that hard earned sleep you worked for at night, he always managed to easily steal a smile from your lips. The day it happened, it seemed like everyone was at the hospital. With as many people that were there at the hospital, you think it would have been really quite boisterous. It wasn't. It's hard to hear much when you're screaming and crying, and when you've stopped only to breathe, reality is buzzing in your ear, forcing you to struggle to hear anything.
He looked awful in that hospital bed. It will forever be a vision of horror and pain.
Today was a little better. It was Gabriel's private open casket. Risking the chance of sounding like I'm grasping at straws, he looked better. He looked cute, dressed in his favorite clothes and wearing his superhero cap. He had makeup on to give his skin a warm, living tone.
I allowed the illusion to trick me for a few minutes.
My mom told me he even had 'big boy' underwear on. She was going to start potty training him next month. She looked a like an old painting by a master artist, beautiful under all the wear and tear and effects of time.
Tomorrow is the funeral. I'd like to say that I've gotten most of my crying out, but another day, another tear, I guess. On top of all of this sadness, I can't get a hold of Jesse and he usually calls me at about 8 o'clock his time, 10'o clock, mine. I know he's probably just out while the night is still young, maybe exploring, or doing something with his fellow international students, or even getting a bite to eat with his host family. It's still difficult.
I miss him a lot. I miss Gabe a lot.
People say time heals all wounds.
One will heal in 5 months.
The other, well, I can't conceive when this wound will heal, if at all.
There's another age old saying that only time will tell.
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