Seven Months

     Well, nearly seven months blog-free is unacceptable in the World Wide Blogging Community.  Most are blogging daily plans, recipes, or miles run. Some blog on fashion, some on pets, some on music.  My life is very simple, and although for the most part I like that, it does get humdrum, and downright lonely.
     I still Facebook, and the young man I wrote of previously, lost his battle with Leukemia, June 2nd.  How fortunate was I, to be asked by him if it was alright "to go".  He didn't want to disappoint all of those cheer-leading "You can beat this, buddy!" and "You can do it!".  I tearfully told him, that only he and God knew if it was time, and that the people cheering him on are doing it more for themselves, so they don't lose him, than for him. He would not be disappointing anyone.
     My connection to him led to connections with the whole family, and their lives have been one massive trial after another. I've seen a mother lose her grip with reality, an Autistic brother be abandoned, abused, and die...three times.  An older brother, a doctor, lose hope, then regain it time and again, and a bouncy, cheerful girlfriend turn into a bouncier fiancee'  I chat with them every day, several times a day...even through the night in times of deep trouble.  I've learned so much about Asperger's by chatting with the youngest, I wish it for everyone.  It is a complex world, but so worth knowing.  Perhaps because he doesn't have to actually see me, he has shared how things look, taste, smell, sound, and feel to him.  For instance, he tastes colors.  Of course he can't explain that to me, but knowing it is amazing for me to hear.  How some days he can feel every hair on his head, and hear every minute sound around him and want to run away from it, but he can't so he yells.  But, when he said "I love you." to me, I was overcome.  These words do not come casually from an Autistic.  In  most cases, not at all.
     Last month, my mother took a turn for the worse, and passed October 12th.  The very next day, my little SUV slid off an oily slick road and rolled three times into a deep culvert.  When word got to my "CA family", they were prepared to do anything for me, even offering to fly here to comfort me.  The youngest, although compassion isn't exactly felt by him, told me over and over how sorry he was, and how much he loved me.  This young man, just 12 years old has touched me very deeply in just seven months.  
    The past few days I have become especially emotional.  I try very hard not to cry when my son is around, because it makes him angry.  But, not angry like 'how dare you'.  Frustrated, angry.  Because he feels powerless.  What does he do?  Hug me?  God forbid!  He is nearly 16!  So, in frustration, he retreats to his room, quite possibly hoping that all will be dry when he steps out.  However, it seems that events of the past months have hit me like an old lady slugs a mugger.  Tears come out of nowhere over things that don't deserve them.  And, anger.  I am not about anger.  I am about peace and kind words, and taking a deep breath, and praying.  But, a mis-delivered package, a letter from the school...sent me into a rage, followed by tears, then back to anger.  My stomach is sick, my head hurts, I can't sleep (worse than usual). And I don't want to talk to anyone.  Even my CA family.  For the first time in four years, I turned off my phone last night.  Is this normal?  I am told, yes.  But, it feels all wrong.  Not me.  Not any "me" I want to know, anyway.
     How has my son handled losing eight loved ones in the past nearly-five years?  Barely, that's how.  And I give him huge props for every day that he doesn't punch, yet another, hole in the wall.    Because that is where I am.  Too much of a wuss to actually punch, but enough anger to want to. 
     I prayed for strength--for myself-- this afternoon, while I tried to grab a hold of some sleep.  I haven't prayed for myself in so long, it felt selfish.  But, I need God's touch, His soothing whispers, and His Love.  
     And I need "real time" hugs.  Human interaction that doesn't include "{{ }}" signs around it.  I am blessed to know I am loved.  But, I am starving for the physical confirmation.
     In closing:
     I love you Mom.  I wish I'd told you that so many, many years ago.  I hope I told you enough while you were ill.  I know you are still with me, in some way...even though saving my life in the accident was an awfully fast call of duty.  Help to soothe me.  Like you did when I was young, please rub my tummy to chase away the bad things.  Thank you for shaping me into someone  that is about peace and kinds words.  Even though being so has landed me as the butt of jokes.  I would rather be the butt of the joke, than the butt telling the joke. ;)