“Connected by a silver cord that hums with sadness
the further it is stretched.”
i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you
my silence is wrecking me. i have no words and so “i love you” is all i say. all i think. to the girl behind the counter. the man behind the steering wheel. to the ex and his girlfriend who mothers my son. to the mean kids in school. to the mothers and fathers everywhere. to the children screaming hate and hurt. “i love you” is all i think, all that matters. everyone somewhere is hurting. everyone somewhere is acting out of fear, everyone somewhere is slowly losing someone they love, everyone somewhere is learning their coping mechanisms and just trying to get through the day. everyone everywhere is just wanting to be loved. and so “i love you” is all i can do.
my business-like mind in handling matters of high family emotion is twisting my spine into something unrecognizeable. i don’t know how i am actually making progress, moving forward, other than to simply put one foot infront of another. then another. then another.
step. step. shuffle. trudge. shuffle.
and there are no words yet, other than i love you. no words of prognosis no words of what life looks like down the road. there are no words yet in this place of wait and worry and wait some more. there are no words other than i love you, while trying to plan your life around something so blurry as dementia.
remember all that talk about juggling? letting the balls drop? yeah, that’s bullshit. that was me in a good place. the truth is that this is the mouse wheel, the dizzymaker, the nauseator. this is the egg cracking, the paper thin membrane unable to hold the goo. and if you drop those balls you’re gonna crack wide open and splatter on those standing nearby. at that point you’ll be of no use to anyone. so hold it together. be strong. say i love you until you cry.
this is nine days away from our longest separation ever. two planes in two different directions. this is christmas and worry and missing and mothers and sons being reunited only ten days later.
this is nine days away from my mother my mother my mother. the longing for what can’t be and the missing for something that was lost in transition. i never got to say goodbye and so i say i love you.
what my dad has told me since birth holds true.
“nothing is forever”
“life is not fair”
and so i find it strange
his answer, “yup”
to the only thing worth saying,
“i love you.”