Well, technically, it’s 2:25 am, but there’s no song with those lyrics, (matchbox 20) plus I figure it’ll be 3 am before I’m done…;)
Insomnia, having left me in peace for a week, has paid me a visit once more. To be fair though, insomnia is really only the result of my unable-to-let-go-and-just-accept-what-is mind. Sometimes, I realise, I am far less being, and much more human.
I miss my Kingston. I miss being close to him. I miss intimacy. I miss touch. I miss being his mother. Much as I despise all these security-blanket labels we identify ourselves with (I am a teacher, lawyer, activist, husband, wife, daughter, sister, friend, parent), I am a mother. And I miss all the things that go with being a mother. It feels like a massive chunk of me has been ripped out, and I am left with this gaping nothingness in my soul.
I miss hugs. I miss tickles. I miss holding him in my arms. I miss ruffling his hair. I miss bedtime. I miss packing school lunches. I miss seeing him off at the school gate with “What’s your only job today?” and his reply “To be awesome”. I miss feeding the ducks. I miss going for fishcakes. I miss spraypainting everything red (his favourite colour). I miss giant chalk drawings on the paving outside. I miss “art-ing”. I miss mixing and making pancakes. I miss picking up sticks. I miss making fires. I miss seeing the world through his eyes. I miss uncovering wonders in the tiniest of things. I miss explaining things to him. I miss reminding him that there’s enough for everyone. I miss watching him make his way through the marvel that is each day. I miss his fascination. I miss his enthusiasm. I miss his intensity. I miss his little hand in mine. I miss him so much.
And man do I feel conflicted. Because I love being here, and every so often, actually, quite often, I am able to be here-now, and I love it. I love my new surroundings. I have fun. I am happy. I do awesome stuff.I meet awesome people. I am blissful. I think I owe it to my Kingston, and to me, to be awesome. Otherwise, how can I even begin to justify this separation? What is all this missing for? (A means to an end – winning this court battle, getting him back, getting him here with me – sure. And in order to attain that, I need to be awesome. I need to kick serious arse at this. I need to excel. What is a unarguably true and clear to me – that Kingston is better off by my side than anywhere else on earth – should become undeniable to the powers that be. ) But, every single moment of awe at where I find myself and every single moment of awe at what I find myself experiencing and every single moment of awe at who I find myself being and becoming, is filled with equal parts delight and despair.
My monkey boy would love this all just as much, more even, than I do.
I try to read my favourite book, “Jonathan Livingston Seagull”, at least once a week. Mainly for this quote:
“Can miles truly separate you from friends….If you want to be with someone you love, aren’t you already there?”
And then I do all that I can do from where I find myself, so far away from him, I behold him, in my heart. And I take in all my surroundings, and I embrace every experience with extra wonder, on his behalf too. All I can do is live by what I have taught him: “Don’t forget to be awesome”. But sometimes, at 3 in the morning, I’m caught off guard and I forget to be awesome. And I cry. A lot.