Returning To My Real Life


It’s 6 am, Brooklyn time, and I already know it’s going to be a hellaciously long day.  The day started dawning about half an hour ago – it’s warm enough to be humid – my son’s apartment and neighborhood is quite for the moment – a little time for reflection before the alarms start the ring to wake him up for work.

I’ve been here in Brooklyn now for six weeks –  I arrived on June 23.  The reason for my extended visit not a pleasant one – my sweet daughter in law was struck by a speeding bicyclist in a park near their house and sustained 3 brain fractures, 2 shoulder fractures and some broken ribs.  The spectrum of Traumatic Brain Injury terrified the whole damned family.  Her mother had arrived the day after the accident, and her brother a week later.   Once DIL was stabilized a bit I came out to join the “team” so that her brother and mom could go home (back to work and other obligations). I, being currently technically unemployed, was in a position to stay as long as needed to assist with her recovery.

DIL’s recovery has been amazing – and considering her injuries, she has come through with no apparent long-term issues other than bones healing and some minor cognitive issues, which we are assured that time will heal.

Though not a pleasant reason to have traveled across country to visit my kids, the last six weeks with son and daughter in law have been amazing.  They have lived here for the last thirteen years.  Our visits have always been brief, mostly them coming back home for a week or less at a time.  My son remembered last night as we talked that this is the longest amount of daily time we’ve spent together since he was seventeen years old.  It’s been grand to simply “be” mom again – fix their meals, help with laundry and housework, walk the granddoggy on prozac, accompany DIL to specialist and therapy appointments …

But it is now time to go home.  As much as staying here is tempting, I do have a life to go back to – or perhaps more clearly, a life to go back and sort out .. a life in transition.  A real life with some big questions to be asked and big answers to be sorted through and outcomes to be revealed.

I also miss my daughter, my two grandsons, my puppy on speed (well, if you’ve ever been around a Yorkie, you know what I mean), the person who wants to love me but doesn’t quite know how, and all of my familiar surroundings.  And yet in these familiar people and things, I have no idea what direction my life at sixty is going.

That being said, today is, as they say, the first day of the rest of my life and I know that …

  • I will cry when I leave my son and daughter in law at the airport and board my plane today …
  • I will hopefully sleep on my five-hour flight home
  • I will be hugged and loved by he who wants to love me and, hopefully, he will have a glass of wine with my name on it when we get to his place
  • Tomorrow morning I will drive my tired ass home to where I live with my daughter, grandsons and puppy and rejoice in the familiarity of my life and spend the weekend doing the mundane in my life and then
  • Monday morning I will begin to sort out this life of mine

And Tuesday, September 6, I get on a plane to Maui for a week and plan on doing not much else than lounging by the pool, staring at the ocean, marveling at the natural beauty and wonder that is Maui .. and wonder at what is in store for me next …

But for now, I feel coffee calling my name – and see a suitcase waiting to be sorted and packed … and need to begin this day …

namaste …

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