Monday, May 3, 2010

In which I question everything

I must be crazy.

It's again almost four in the goddamn a.m. and I can't sleep. Sure, I'm tired and I need toothpicks to keep my eyelids open when I'm not in bed, but my head hits the pillow and WHAM! I'm awake. Restless. Flipping back and forth from side to side, so annoying that I've actually considered moving to the guest room to give  The Man the space and the quiet he needs so he can be alert for his 6 a.m. workday.

I'm so tired I don't even know what to write. I spent my weekend loving Gus, doing dishes, cooking dinner and worrying. I have a lot of worries, none for  myself. I will be fine. I will cry, I will grieve and I will support my friends in any situation, even if those situations are hard to handle. And this is.

I've decided to go into work tomorrow. And it's now 4 a.m. and I have to be up in 3-and-a-half hours to deal with orders that mean nothing to me. I don't care that a customer will get his golf balls all logoed up to hand out at an upcoming golf tournament. I don't care if the 75 jackets get to the embroiderer in time. I don't care what colour the golf tees are for another customer. I don't care. It's not important in the grand scheme of things. In the grand scheme of things, Gus would be healthy and my friends wouldn't have to consider life without him, I wouldn't have to consider a life without him.

Every day I wish for one more day with him, one more day of hearing the intermittent "I love you" but that is not fair to him. Nothing is fair when it comes to a 10-year-old boy whose only vice is saying exactly what he means. It's refreshing to experience especially when my trust in adults, my trust in a just higher power is being questioned daily. I question daily, hourly, minute by minute why he was chosen, why he was brought into this world only to have to depart now, a lifetime too short. It makes me question everything, including  what I used to consider important.

Tomorrow, I will fill a seat, until it's time again to hit the highway and show up at the doorstep of my friend. She's my people and that is what is important.


  1. This story touched me deeply. Partly, because I have a 9 yr old son, and considering a life without him rips my soul apart. I'm so sorry for the hurt on your heart, Girl. You and your friends are in my thoughts.

  2. Thanks Summer. It's been a roller coaster of emotions. Now doctors are saying he may hold on for a few months in this state - bed-ridden and unresponsive. I would love the extra days with him but not on these terms.

  3. I'm so sorry to hear about this, my thoughts are with you xx

  4. Thanks Lulu. All thoughts help tremendously! xxoo