cruel summer

Six days into my summer vacation and so far it's been an adventure. Not like a "I went to Hawaii and hiked a volcano" adventure or "I bungee jumped" adventure. More of a rollercoaster adventure. High highs and low lows. An emotional exhausting up and down ride into the hellish places I hate to go and the kind of change I don't cope with well. As I've said before, my son moved out. He's in San Diego. Beautiful, sunny San Diego. One of the truest grins I've ever seen on his face since his teenage years is when he held up his new key and smiled. The second grin was when we'd dumped all his boxes into his new room and he walked me to my car. That was the grin of adulthood, the grin of joy, the grin of new adventure. That made me happy. He was happy and I really, really loved that.

After I got into my car, he started to walk away, and I could feel that weird burning sensation in my face, that pre-hysteria that was brewing. I started up my car and turned the corner toward the freeway. Then it happened. Whole, deep, gut wrenching sobs came out of me. I tried to squelch them so I could focus on my driving. I was embarrassed that someone might look into my car window and see me losing it. But, none of that rationalizing could help the situation. I had to let it run it's course and as I turned onto the freeway, I began to hyperventilate. Some of us have had those cries, the ones that seem to take over your whole body, the uncontrollable, soul starved aches that just keep coming. I've had a few in my lifetime and so I just let it roll. After a few minutes I caught my breath and made a conscious decision to stuff it down until later. I was on my way to a friend's house, hurrying to get there so her drama could become mine. So I would be able to absorb myself into her life and not think about my own. It worked. I've pushed it into a safe place, it'll harbor there until I feel like I have a safe place to deal with it. Until then, I'll eat my way around it.