A Kind of Normal

 

Things are slowly feeling calmer, more stable and predictable. It is a welcomed change. It is like they are returning to a kind of normal, only they are not actually returning, just changing, maybe settling down, at least for a little bit. I am starting to re-experience everyday things that are familiar and strange at the same time. For example, today was Sunday, and was the first Sunday in a long, long time that was not consumed with something. It feels like every single day since March 2020 has been so full of obligations, change, and panic that I don't remember what an empty day is like. First there was the pandemic, there was working and mothering and teaching 24/7, watching the news constantly, trying to stay on top of new information in order to keep my family and my organization safe and stable. Then there was the loss of community, the realization that my marriage was over, falling into new and intense friendships, building a community, a divorce, falling in love, social unrest, the fire, more changes, constant shifts in the relationships I was growing to depend on, more Covid surges, more social unrest, falling even deeper in love, illness, mistakes, letting go of my old life, working 2 jobs, selling a house, a daughter who was angry with me, an excruciating move, another Covid surge, and now.... I'm here. The move is done. The housework is no longer overwhelming. Most mornings I wake up without an immediate panic attack. I am starting to remember little things again. 

I find that I am clinging to my home in a strange way. I have always liked being at home, reading, gardening, decorating, cooking, taking care of things. However recently I am fiercely attached and think about my space almost constantly. I want to be here most of the time, even though I am glad to be working back in an office. There is one room I seem to avoid, though, and that is my home office. I have everything I need there, but I can't bring myself to sit at my desk, and I don't even like going in there. It is still largely unfinished and messy. I wonder if it is too close to the office I basically lived in for the last 6 months of my marriage. It had become my bedroom, then my office and bedroom, then it felt like the only place I spent my time. I just want to keep that door shut for a little while longer. 

Today my daughter and I had what I would consider a normal day. We went on a short hike, had brunch with a friend, went thrifting, came home and ate lunch, watched a show together, went to a bookstore, and came home for dinner, reading, and then off to bed with her before 9:00 pm. It was so strange to be able to decide on a whim what we were going to do. It had been so long since I felt that kind of freedom that I almost didn't know what to do with it.  At 11 1/2 my girl is growing and changing so much I feel like I am getting to know her all over again every day. We have very different interests, which means that I have to really put a lot of thought into what we will do when we spend time together. When we were at the bookstore I found myself asking her questions that were so fundamental I surprised myself. Things that a parent would not normally have to ask - at least I don't think so. I felt clumsy and out of touch with her reality. I wondered where I had been, since I have physically been here the whole time. I wonder if other parents feel a gap open up like this, and have to constantly evaluating, re-evaluating, planning, relearning, just to feel like they are barely keeping up. 

The other thing that feels strange and normal is the way Covid seems to have suddenly evaporated. We had the highest ever surge less then 2 months ago and are now in one of the lowest periods in a long time, but it feels like the world, or at least the part of it where I am, has just given up. People are going about their business with almost no precautions, and I have to say I have joined them for the most part. I still avoid busy areas and wear a mask if I am going to be in close contact with people indoors. Other than that it is like I am going through the motions of a life before Covid, but with a vague sense that I am doing something wrong. It feels like this quiet period is not going to last, but I am sure that if the next surge comes I will be in the minority of people who mask up again. I think the rest of the world has largely had it. They're done. 

P. is on spring break, doing some remote camping in between visits to Phoenix. I miss him terribly when he is out of range, I feel weird and not right when I have very little contact with him. It is not a logical feeling, there is not an explicit fear attached to it, just a yearning throughout the time and dull panic that sets in during the evenings. I felt this way even before we met in person. This time is easier, though. Perhaps it is because life is a little more manageable, or because we know each other better and our relationship has some roots that it didn't have before. It feels less tenuous, less like a fantasy that is going to be gone any moment. I have done this before and know what to expect. He sends me a text with his location so I know where he is camping, and that is reassuring. I hope that I will be able to go longer stretches more comfortably by this summer, because I know it is important for him to be away from his phone and disappear for periods of time. I want to support that and hope that he will also be comfortable enough knowing that I won't fall apart. I want him to feel free to disappear when he needs to, knowing I'll be alright. I don't want to be a hinderance to him. 

We had quite a scare this past week when he landed in jail for trespassing on private property in a state where property is practically sacred. I got a calm sounding text from him Wednesday morning stating that he had been taken to jail. I was shocked but reassured myself that it could not be that serious, it was a mistake and they would let him out in no time. Over the next few days I grew increasingly worried despite myself - I promised that I would be calm but by Thursday evening I was ready to get in my vehicle and make the 9.5 hour drive to try to bail him out of jail. Luckily he was out by that time, and did not need to spend another night there. The experience scared the shit out of me and shook him up pretty bad. I felt so helpless and ignorant, and I can only imagine how helpless he felt trapped in that cell, not knowing what was going on or when the judge would see him. We only had less then 48 hours of it. Holy shit. People deal with this for years. Or a lifetime. What the fuck. 

From today it is only 2 months until he moves to Tucson, only 2 hours away. It feels like a long time but 2 months goes by quickly. It will be another weight lifted to be so relatively close to him. 

Here's hoping for a little longer in whatever this lull is. Who knows, maybe it'll stick around.