I know my dreary mood is directly correlated to awakening before 3:00 AM. It’s one of the more unpleasant hazards, I’ve found, of getting older. I swear I was once able to sleep all night. As a teenager I could sleep for days, it seemed. It’s an elusive and nearly impossible feat now when I need all the beauty rest I can possibly get.
Catie and Riley are never sure what to make of my nocturnal prowls through the house; they barely raise a brow. Their innate sense of time tells them it’s too early for breakfast, for dinner, for a walk or a trip to the park.
I cruised the internet for a help line for insomniacs; surely they didn’t have daytime hours. I phoned in a refill for a prescription and checked the mailbox for the paper. The world is eerily quiet at that time of day.
I shouldn’t have looked through old photos last night but both my daughter and my son want a visual display for their respective weddings and I’m the one with all the baby pictures.
To be honest, I couldn’t finish the sorting before I went to bed because I started missing my oldest son. I’ve seen him once in the last year, and that’s not because he lives three hours away. Following a twelve-month period where his life went off the rails – substance abuse and suicide attempts and financial distress – he left a phone message last July and said he wanted nothing more to do with the family. He’d already exchanged his old circle of friends for a new one; I’d never dreamed he’d cast us off too.
We’d forget about him in time, he said.
So my heart was feeling heavy. I didn’t see him at Christmas or get a return phone call to the message I left on his voice mail. I was sad he won’t be going to his little sister’s wedding. They were once really close and she’s even living now in the same city as he is. I somehow doubt he’ll be attending his younger brother’s wedding in September either. I was sad he hasn’t picked up the phone or sent me an email to ask how Catie’s been doing; he knows about her illness because I sent him a message the day of her surgery. And I was sad because I knew he was in town yesterday to see a surgeon at the clinic in the same building where I work and I’d been hoping he might, just maybe, come and see me.
I’m thinking, just maybe, that’s why I couldn’t sleep last night.
It was a really long day and I was ready for a good, solid poor-me cry when I pulled into the driveway this evening. But then – oh, look – two expectant golden faces at the window, noses squashed against the glass, just as they had been when they watched me leave in the morning. I could see Catie’s scrawny tail wagging in circles and thwacking the curtains; I could hear Riley’s excited bark telling me to hurry up and get inside as I fumbled with the door key.
I’d be lying if I said Catie and Riley made everything better. But their non-judgmental, unconditional, unselfish, wholehearted loving this evening really, really, really helped. I didn’t need a cry after all.
Well, now you made us all cry over here!
All I can offer is, feel blessed he is alive.
He’ll never forget you. And one day, he’ll come back to you. Just keep your heart open. Keep reaching out. And don’t give up trying.
In the meantime, keep hanging on knowing he will come back to you, the time won’t be so hard to endure.
My mom struggles almost daily with the loss of my brother. They fought like mad people when they were together. They ran a pizzeria for years together and that really escalated their mean side to each other. But they were strangely inseparable.
She regrets every argument and every stupid spat.
There wasn’t enough time for apologies – he became comatose after losing oxygen to his brain when he went to bed one night. She found him and she and I together took him off life support.
Keep trying with patience and love and he’ll come back. You get that chance and be thankful.
Comet’ mom
(poking around on the blogs as Comet sleeps)
You are not alone. Comet’s Mom is right. It may take a few years, but these things usually strike their balance. Focus on your other two, three, and four legged kids and let all else fall into place. Cyber licks
Opie’s Mom
well, i can’t speak to ‘people issues’, sometimes i think my clan put the ‘disfunctional’ in ‘disfunctional families’…kind of like all the left overs were thrown in a rotted out peach basket and left to stew together (makes a love family portrait though..). but as for your three/four legged family, you are truly blessed. i read something once that i’ve had taped to my computer screen for about 12 years..
“Nobody can fully understand the meaning of love unless he’s owned a dog. He can show you more honest affection with a flick of his tail than a man can gather through a lifetime of handshakes.” by Glen Hill
I agree with both Opie’s Mom and Comet’s Mom…he’ll come around….and wonder what took him so long. In the meantime, it sure would be nice if humans were like more like your two pups with their noses pressed against the window….
As I drove off for work this morning and watched my two dogs looking at me through the window, I thought, gawd, it’s so nice to be missed and loved so much!
Hugs,
Tracy
That’s my guess too. After both my parents passed away, I went through a period of insomnia that manifested into some pretty serious irritability (just ask Rene). Not until I sought professional help and went through with a few therapy sessions, did I start resting peacefully and acting like the happy guy I am, once again. Depression is a beast, and acknowledgment is the first step to beating it. You’re half way there.
We’re sorry to hear about the family issues … please know your Tripawds family is always here for you. Peace.
I know about those sleepless nights. I’ve just had 2 myself… but I think it was more allergy related this time. Although there was a time several years back where I was in a similar boat with my sister. She stopped speaking to me and it hurt. All I can say is I never missed a birthday, and sent cards and gifts when her kids were born, and I think those served as little reminders that I still cared. She needed space, but one day she slowly started turning back. It took 5 years… and we are now very close again. I hope your son will turn more quickly. But love and patience can pay off – I will keep you in my heart that it works for you, too.
And those doggie faces pressed up to the window – those truly are the faces of pure love! We are all so blessed to have experienced this kind of love!
Sending lots of hugs,
Susan
Aren’t you glad that you decided that you were a dog person, after all? Mine do the same for me…while they don’t erase the angst and the heartache, they do make it more bearable, and they most certainly remind me, each and every day, that I am needed and valued and loved.
I think that becomes priceless to many of us as in our “real” lives we are often unappreciated and overlooked.
Once you have a dog, you always know that somebody will be happy you are home and even more, they will love you with every ounce of their being.
They give us purpose and strength, and who amongst us can’t use a little of that.
Beautiful post, as always. I’m stuck out of town and feeling disconnected, so I felt a certain kinship with you tonight. Thank you.
Lincoln’s Mom
Carmen – if it were possible to do so – I would give you a big hug. There are simply too many obstacles. 🙁
My heart aches for your separation from your son. You have given so much of yourself, and offered him acceptance and support -and so the hurt is that much worse.
If I may offer a thought – if he had to face you, his siblings, his former friends, your husband – he would also have to then face what is behind the substance abuse, and the suicide attempts. That would make it too real if he’s not ready to deal with it yet. By having no family, no “history” or “baggage” to remind him of his past – he is free to place blame for his behavior wherever he choses to do so – and on whom he choses.
He knows – somewhere buried very deep right now – that you accepted him, you didn’t judge him, and you love him. That may be making him feel guilty right now – and in his mind he may even resent you for “making him feel guilty”.
I hope that Catie and Riley keep lifting your spirits and reminding you that you are needed and loved.
Tana