Missin’ You

It’s curious how this works, I still haven’t figured it out. Granted, I am very new at this, but it is all a mystery.

Last night we had dinner at our friend’s house. These are people who knew Jake well; their daughter and he became fast friends on a tall ship summer camp around ten years ago. They were scuba buddies and everyone on the trip wanted to know if they were brother and sister. They looked like they could have been. When they came off the ship, they introduced us to each other, we all became friends, and remained friends ever since.

We had a lovely time; they prepared an elaborate sushi spread complete with miso soup, salads, the freshest fish, hot sake and beer. We ate. We drank. We reminisced. We laughed. We watched the Jimmy Kimmel after-Oscar show. We laughed some more. For all appearances, a nice, normal evening with good friends.

Today, it is as if we experienced a backlash, recompense for that ‘happiness’. I awoke in a melancholy state of mind. Then, while saying the last Kaddish, a huge wave of sorrow washed over me, unbidden and unforeseen. It has been a while since one of these hit me so powerfully. It was all I could do to whisper the remainder of the blessing, run to my car and navigate the few blocks home. Yes, I drove four blocks. Hey, I live in Los Angeles, what do you expect me to do, walk?

When I got home, I crawled into bed and fought to go back to sleep. Drifting in and out of consciousness, vague dreams I can’t recall visited me. I finally dragged myself out of bed Wfryingand restarted my day. A few inconsequential errands: smog check, automobile registration at the triple A, shopping for a Minestrone soup I will make tomorrow. Somehow, cooking gives me a tiny bit of surcease. It is as if Jake is in the kitchen with me. I always recall the last time we cooked together, Thanksgivukkah. Frying latkes, finessing the turkey gravy, presenting the meal to our closest friends and family.

The cloud of sadness hovered over me all day, much like the uneven gray sky after the recent storms.

It is so random, so unpredictable, these Grief Spasms. I thought one would hit this weekend, the confluence of the 9th Shabbat, and the second month since Jake’s passing. But no, they hit without warning, like an earthquake. No satellite picture to give notice, no Doppler radar, just the solid whump of unexpected sorrow as it crashes into me like a Mack truck.

It is evening now, the day mercifully over. Perhaps tomorrow will be better. I can’t tell from here what it will be like. Truly it is a moment-by-moment thing. What doesn’t change, and is always certain, is the ache I feel for him, how much I miss him. As Lowell George said,, “I tell you true, it hurts the way I’m missin’ you.”

About edcol52

The Infinite Fountain of Love and Loss flows unceasingly into the pool of memory and sorrow. I created this blog in response to the most dreadful tragedy every parent fears, the death of a child, our 24 year old son, Jake. We are now on an unimagined journey along this road of grief and recovery. If you can find some comfort within these pages, than I will have succeeded in some small measure.
This entry was posted in Daily Ramblings, Dreams, Food, Friends and Family, Grief, Memory, Sadness and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Missin’ You

  1. I love that quote!
    xx Tia

  2. Pam Thompson says:

    Ed, it almost seems as though we are living in parallel worlds. On Satirday I went out for my first evening out with some friends from work since we lost Graeme. All in all it was a lovely evening – a performance by a group including one of our staff members. At times I could join in the singing, and even a little dancing, but every now & again I felt such sadness. Once I was home, and the next day, I felt such an onslaught of loss and a huge sense of guilt that I could have enjoyed myself who I had lost so much. Sunday was a very hard day! The last two days have been like treading water, a constant feeling of “butterflies in the stomach” and a lethargy and apathy that make it difficult to care enough to feel I’m doing my job properly. I am just so darn tired – of being sad, feeling such a whole in my very being, of trying to be the me I used to be……

    • edcol52 says:

      Pam- What strikes me as I wade through this calamity, and hear the stories of others who are slogging alongside me, is the striking similarities of our emotions. It isn’t guilt at having been merry for a moment, exactly, but the swing of the pendulum from happiness to sorrow. Yes, the tiredness, I coined a term, Grief Fatigue. It is exactly as you describe. The day-to-day exhaustion which doesn’t diminish with rest, and the flat out weariness of being sad all the time. I guess that’s why we have to take our bits of, if not exactly happiness, more like pleasant distractions where we can. The guilt is an entirely different matter. Be kind to yourself as much as you are able. Thank you for keeping in touch.

  3. Pam Thompson says:

    Excuse my typing errors – of course I meant Saturday, and “when I had lost so much” not “who”!

  4. I’m sending you a Cena hug all the way from DC

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