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Jett Superior laid this on you on || July 28, 2010 || 4:33 pm

Scout called me from Chicago last night. She was there on a layover, headed to Detroit for her grandfather’s funeral. I was wandering around Birmingham with Mathias after having dropped her at the airport earlier in the day. Our shopping errands were long done.

“I miss Sam. Do you miss Sam?”

I asked her this question because I am afraid to ask Mathias. I don’t want him to fall apart, not yet. To further that end, I have been doing my own falling-apart quietly, quickly; yesterday this was done in bathrooms around the city. The one at Target was a little more epic than the others, but not by much. That particular come-apart was exacerbated by the fact that I was buying school supplies for Scouty and Mathias but none for Samuel. Then I hitched up my yoga pants, plastered on a smileĀ  and said something along the lines of Holy God, mommy needs coffee…who wants to handle the Starbucks run? when I plowed out of the restroom.

Mother. He’s only been been gone nine hours and forty minutes.”

“You DO miss him, YOU DO! Not even I’m counting the hours!”

“Give me a break, Momma.”

“But do you miss him?”

“Not yet. Probably because I’m not there. It’ll be kind of hard when I get back. We shared the whole second floor, away from the rest of you guys.”

“I miss him.”

“Yeah. But you know what? The first forty-eight hours are the hardest. It’s going to be better.”

The house sat empty, because Maxim was working late and Scout was out of town. I kept Mathias in the city long past when it could have been considered practical. I wanted for there to be life at home, some sort of human racket, so the place wouldn’t feel so hollow when I got back. I wanted to be exhausted, in order to prevent any impulseĀ  to rattle around and run into reminders of Sam at every turn, to see his shirts hanging in the laundry room, to find the stack of borrowed ceedees he’d placed on the table by the door.

A few hours ago I went up to his room to get empty hangers for the laundry and to put some of his clean things away. It was a bit of, ahem, a pit. “This is good,” I told Maxim, “I can choose to be annoyed with him rather than miss him. He kind of did me a favor, the little prick.”

One hour ago, Sam’s friend Jay came to get his car. Samuel is gifting him with it because Jay has it kind of rough and doesn’t have a car of his own. Sam is sometimes infuriatingly arrogant, but mostly he is good and generous and loving.

Ten minutes ago I got this text:

The drill instructor is taking my phone now. I love you, Mother. You’ll have my address soon.

I don’t know how to do this. How am I going to do this??

9 worked it out »

  1. Kristine 7.28.2010

    GAH. I’m all weepy over the final text.
    But that’s not helping you. Here’s the thing. No one knows exactly how you’ll do it. Not even you. But you will. And so will he. And you’ll both be so very proud.
    xo

     
  2. Heather 7.28.2010

    Oooooo, Momma. I’m setting out to read your archives tonight (TEN years worth, whoa). My 15 year old son is leaving for football camp tomorrow for three days and I’m weepy, I cannot imagine what you’re feeling. Big hugs and you’re in my thoughts.

     
  3. ramble 7.28.2010

    This makes me want to tear a whole in the internet and hug you.
    I’m at a loss.

     
  4. ramble 7.28.2010

    Also I suck at spelling, sorry.

     
  5. TwoBusy 7.29.2010

    “Trailing blood in the water” indeed.

    Sorry, Jett. I can’t imagine the knots and barbs that must be coursing through you right now.

    ::sending interweb bear hugs yr way::

     
  6. Jett, even in sadness you write like an angel. Stay strong.

     
  7. Holmes 8.5.2010

    I haven’t the slightest bit of wisdom or advice, just warm thoughts and hugs and a lot of faith in you. Here’s hoping it gets easier.

     
  8. jenna 8.6.2010

    Yep, this sucks. Big huge hugs. Where is the rewind button on this one?

     
  9. Ann's Rants 8.12.2010

    It was easier to think that all we needed is to feed them and try to keep them whole throughout their childhood.

    Your site wows me.

     

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