Looking forward, then back

Looking forward… always… looking forward to something…needing and wanting something to look forward to…then it comes, then it goes…it all goes so fast.

Nothing more to say about that… I have successfully managed to use up 7 weeks of free time… I am terrible at free time.  I use it to sink deeper and deeper into my head instead of sinking deeper and deeper into activities or friends… Just when I have time to actually do things with other people, I chose to spend most of the last 7 weeks by myself.  Too much time with me is not good.  I am not the best company.  If I were my own friend, I would try to lose my phone number.  

Granted, I did, as discussed previously, escort people to about 32 doctor’s appointments  ( no, I am not exaggerating!) and took my mother to the beauty parlor 8 times… so that accounted for 40 tasks within the 35 days.  You know, 35 days is not that many if you say it like that.  7 weeks sounds likes tons, but it is possible that it was just 35 days?

I have not used the time wisely… the previously totally clean and organized house is now messier than it was before. The completely washed, dried and folded laundry is now crumpled in a hamper again… and lo and behold, those people I live with had the nerve to actually eat the food I worked so hard to buy a few weeks ago. The flowers I daydreamed about never got planted and the great American novel never got written.  I did manage to eat a lot,  drink a lot of coffee and read several books written by other people. 

I suffer terribly the end of summer.  I do it every single year.  I should know by now, what to expect.  I am 42 years old.  I feel the change in seasons to an unreasonable degree… the end of camp when I was a kid would send me into such a crying fit, I could hardly be contained.  The end of overnight camp when I was a teenager resulted in a solid month of melancholy Barry Manilow songfests and poetry writing ( yes, that bad!) The sight of school supplies in the stores actually makes me want to run screaming out the door… and I like school…

What is wrong with me?  I suppose the possibilities that summer is supposed to bring combined with the reality that 35 days cannot change the world is disappointing even though I have been through it for almost half a century.  I look at my children now and instead of imagining the world of possibilities for myself, I imagine it for them… and I don’t want that the end. For Sophie, she is so happy in the summer.  She is tan and strong and beautiful and HAPPY…she does so well with sports and swimming and bathing suit wearing.  She is free from the things that trouble her about school and blossoms with the freedom new people give her…

For Max, each summer has been a time of relaxation, time off from therapy and so much pressure and work work work to be better.  He always seemed so much healthier and stronger in the summer.  His first summer, he finally started be able to eat.  His second summer, he started to crawl and talk.  His third summer, he was potty trained.  His fourth, he used his walker for the first time and last summer, he just got bigger and stronger.  I had hoped for a miracle this summer.  I had hoped for divine intervention.  I had hoped that with the joy of the summer sun, he would somehow be cured.  

What a fool I can still be.  I still think there is something that will change.  I still think that if I can just do everything right, I will wake up and it will be over.  He will walk from his room to mine and it will be over..  this sadness I feel when I see the young boys playing at the pool or running around the neighborhood.. the boys who are just being boys… so free…it seems so easy.

These boys, they are torturing me lately.  I see them everywhere.  There seems to be  a disproportionate number of little blond boys in this town and they are poking needles in my eyes. I see them, and I have to turn away. They are so beautiful and young and they are just having fun… it is so easy…

They are so lucky, do they know it? Do the moms who bring them to the pool and the playground and the park know how lucky they are?  Maybe they do… maybe that is why them seem a bit less frazzled than I do whenever I see them…

The funny thing is, they are probably wishing for the end of summer, wishing to send those wild and rambunctious boys back to school…Maybe they are tired of seeing them run around in circles and dive into the pool.  Maybe I should be wishing for the end of summer so that I don’t have to seem them anymore too.

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