~ ~ ~ Happy Belated Easter, everyone ~ ~ ~
All three of my kids
Although Easter Sunday itself was really quite nice, it's been a long, long week here.
As a writer, I always aim to be articulate; on a good day I might strive for eloquent; on my game, I hope to be profound. Today, however, I'm just going for informative.
A week ago today, my ex-husband, Matthew's dad, died unexpectedly. Apart from all the anger and turmoil and pain and confusion my son is feeling, he is suddenly without a father and is completely displaced from his home. So, as would be normal in most other families, he has moved in with us again. If you remember, this is as far from normal as our family could get.
I'd love to be able to say that I, too, am sad for the loss of this man, but I can't get there yet. Too many years of garbage between being in love with him and today. As you can imagine, we're all upside down, in our own ways. But I'm not grieving a loss so much as I'm in a state of weird, subdued panic/anxiety/hope. Wish I could explain it better...as I said, I wasn't even hoping to be articulate.
A week ago, my son and I were barely speaking to each other. He lived in another town and we had no contact at all for over 10 months. Today, he is back in our house, eating at our table, getting up and going to school with Jack - whether any of us was ready for this or not. Talk about immersion learning.
So we're getting through this day by day. It's been ok, I guess. He's grieving, of course, and probably still a little in shock, too, but felt ready to go back to school today. He has a new, supportive group of friends. He's been really, really nice to all of us since he got here. We've hugged and said "I love you" more than I can ever remember. It almost seemed normal, when the five of us sat down and played Uno after dinner last night.
It's not permanent, at least not yet. It's logical, of course, that he moves back in and stays here, but I know from past experience that making that happen will be a bit like making mercury stay in the thermometer when the glass has been broken. I'm not sure where else he'd go - the girlfriend's, a friend's, there's no telling. He can't go back to the house his dad lived in and he's in a position to keep it for himself, even if he will be 18 in just six months. I'm sure we'll figure it out, as we navigate through these next few weeks getting our new life in order. I'm just hoping that whatever it is that we decide, it will be the right thing for all of us and not cause a whole new rift.
So I'm trying to balance hope with realism, and blessings with curses. I can't tell you how many times over the years I've wished his father dead, and now I'm the poster child for Careful What You Wish For. The nightmare of managing the estate in Matt's best interest (with the cantankerous ex-father in law) is already causing me angina, and it's hardly even started. The logistics of moving him back into our home when we never expected - ever - that he would return, are a bit tricky. We no loner have a bedroom for him; we must create one out of Jack's playroom and figure out what to do with a boatload of stuff, old and new. But then, I think, who cares? He's back! Which is great, right? It's what I wanted, right?
But it wasn't supposed to happen like this. Not out of the blue, not without preparation and healing and a plan, not because of some horrible tragedy, not because he has to.
It will all be ok, right? In the end, everything will work itself out. We will get through this like we've gotten through the past two years: trial and error, ups and downs, living and learning. Today, I was just happy to get up and make breakfast for both my boys, and watch them walk to the bustop, like in the old days.
I'll take that, for now.
Jack finds an egg - the hiding places are getting a little more challenging these days...
Why is this ok, when usually, we don't eat off the floor?
My Easter present: Matt and Elle hanging out with us at home.