Dear Helen,<\/p>\n
Diane and I are chillin\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 here in Boothbay Harbor. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re sleeping late, eating out and dreading our return trip home. As we crested Eastern Ave., about to descend the hill to Hannaford\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s grocery store, I thought I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d give you a call and talk about Matt going off to college. Then I felt a quick hollow beat in my chest. All those years, all those calls, and especially all those shared stories. Not gone, but over. Shortly after I cut off the end of my finger I reached for the zipper on my jacket but missed. It was no longer there to grab – in the old way – between thumb and forefinger.<\/p>\n
Well, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re not here to grab, in the old way, either. I guess from now on our conversations will be one way. Diane doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t frown on this, she tells me I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m incorporating your spirit within mine. I think of it as taking the good parts of you and sprinkling them around in my head. <\/p>\n
Mostly what I have in my head right now is the cheerleader. At some point in my life you gave up being a judgmental mother and became my reinforcer. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not really sure when that happened, but it might have been when your brother died, and you called me for support. <\/p>\n
If you were still around, I would have told you about missing Matt. As Diane and I headed out of Acton, we stopped by Hil K\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s house to give her the CD version of a movie I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d made. Hil K is Hil K because there is a Hil B. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve seen her picture in the last two proms and on that sophomore camping trip to Ed\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s place. <\/p>\n
Hil came to the door dressed in a black t-shirt speckled with yellow paint. When she leaves she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s handing her newly spiffed-up room over to her sister. Hil and I had sort of talked before about change, this transition from high school to college, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d joked about wanting all of Matt’s friends to get married and settle down. Frozen in amber at eighteen, if you will. <\/p>\n
Hil described how hard it was to no longer have Debbie a quick drive away, and then she asked me, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Will you miss Matt?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said, no, but that I already missed Debbie. A funny variation of the answer I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been reciting for months. Usually I frame it as, \u00e2\u20ac\u009dI\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m so happy for Matt that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not feeling the loss.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
However, Hil\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s asking kicked the loss door open. Today I’m dreading Matt\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s leaving, and I thought I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d ask you for advice. You have to admit, our family handled leaving in an odd way. I remember when I left for college. Brian drove me to IU\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s campus, opened the car door and said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Goodbye.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I remember when I hitchhiked around the country in 1969. I walked out of our side door to the highway in front of our house, and waved, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Goodbye.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I had imagined my father\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s transitions were similar but without the fanfare. <\/p>\n
But, mom, I know you must have had feelings though you didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t share them. So that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s why I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m asking now, what do I do with those same feelings? The ones you sat on. The one\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s I kept hidden until Hil came to the door. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Dear Helen, Diane and I are chillin\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 here in Boothbay Harbor. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re sleeping late, eating out and dreading our return trip home. As we crested Eastern Ave., about to descend the hill to Hannaford\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s grocery store, I thought I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d give … Continue reading