Reflection and Suckulation

Star Date 10092016

Awake since 0445 on the West coast. Hopeful for a rest on the four hour trek to Chicago for a layover and some coffee. Nope. Late to check in, bags may not arrive with plane in PIT, “randomly” selected for additional anal probe screening, paid for the upgrade to get the good seat on Southwest. Nope. Back of plane…fine by me…lucky to get two together. Sitting next to chronic farter and in front of kids who spread out across aisle from mom and youngest. I hate people and their kids. Farter lady eventually stops looking at her IPad long enough to say something to the mother of the year about how her offspring is kicking said farter. I wanted to turn around and say…I don’t like this lady…this woman… so please keep kicking her; however, the kicking is clearly triggering a negative response from the sphincter, so your demon-possessed kid can stop or I can break his legs. Charlie is sensitive after all. Rewind. I forgot to take my normal concoction of Sudafed and Excederin. I am F’ed in the A. No coffee. No food. Early.

Rewind. I stuff money in a glad lock double zipper hootie hoo. Short note…okay…short for me, Norm. Immediate sadness at the thought of not saying goodbye squared to my babies. Gut wrenching. Why the money? It wasn’t asked for, nor expected. Michael and Casey were so very fun to stay with. They incurred additional cooling and electrical and food and so on. How could I possibly not leave a little dinero for the yutes? We had a blast.

Fast forward. Arrive in Chicago with an hour to kill…not at O’hare…the other one. No Starbucks. No remotely decent coffee. Text from Casey that brought me to my emotional knees…sorry Case:

“Thanks for everything dad. You didn’t have to leave money we are just happy you guys could come. You know I don’t do the whole emotional thing but I wish I could have given you another hug. I love you dad. Good luck with your surgery and get Charlie out so you can stop being a faker and giving excuses to get out of doing stuff.”

And now all can see where I get it from. It? All of it. Some sort of alter universe where the kid instills the stuff instead of the parent…The same place where Spock has a mustache and goatee. I had been doing okay to this point in my day. Tired. Not wanting to leave but wanting to be home. Charlie hates tears. He hates them so much that he reminds me in unpleasant ways. My dearest and tiniest of firstborn tinies. Never left a hug, unhugged. Especially when it pertains to me. You are my most favorite first born ever. Thank you for introducing Pappy…smear…to Miss Logan. She is already a genius and will beat down all the whiteys as she has been programmed to do. Kill whitey. Kill my landlord (SNL reference).

We are walking through the non-O’hare airport and cannot find coffee worthy of the afternoon BM it will definitely inflict upon me and or us. Stupid airport.

Fast forward. Flight to Pitt. Second to last row. Jess has window and middle and I have the aisle and John Wick on my big screen. Fast flight. I am struggling to get through this movie as all I can think about are two letters I feel I need to write. Casey, and Sam. Oh…and I hate the Beatles, but their Help song is stuck in my head today. I feel loss. I feel like the week went by way to slowly fast. It already feels like a week since I got to hold Logan, to hear Casey laugh. To see my Sammers. To watch Casey and Michael together and see young, happy, and married.  Arrive in Pitt to find a Starbucks down by the luggage thingy. …almost as fun as finding our actual luggage. Long walk to car and find a brand new door ding…I hate people. Hop in car and drive HOME. Quiet ride. Some reflection but mostly…for me…feelings of how did the week go so quickly? We left this morning and it already feels like a week. Saw Scott and Sandi  almost a week ago. And again, I am afflicted with thoughts of what if. As Karen has so succinctly pointed out, this is a pussy tumour. But what if? Did I …have I…loved all the people I call family, well enough to ‘make’ them remember me for the rest of their lives? Have I made any difference to anyone, anywhere? I am overcome with sorrow beyond sorrow. I am wishing for a do-over. I am wanting time back. I am wanting time. I am wanting. I am. What am I? No different than anyone else save that I have indeed given all I have to anyone and everyone that matters. Is it the last time I held Logan? I do not know. I do know I held her as oft as I could and it will never be enough for her to remember. Did I help Casey and Michael enough? Likely not. No blame. No expectations. They are starting life and I am ending life. Have I said enough to Sam for her to remember all my stupid words? I do not fucking think so. ..she might disagree. Am I …is Charlie …the reason for so many sleepless nights? Suddenly, it is difficult to be home. Suddenly my throat hurts and feels swollen. Suddenly the bourbon and chocolate cake (mom made) aren’t enough. Suddenly, I am back in the land of real. Of suck. Of wait. Yes, I am tired. I am tired of being tired. I want for a moment in time that has come and gone. Not because I regret…nay…I want to not know about Charlie. I want to not think that this may have been my last plane ride. My only plane ride to see Logan. My last to see my girls and my West coast family. How I ache to be sitting at the Zempels and laughing again. To listen to Renfro kids pestering each other while Sandi does the same to Scott because he is instigating and evoking that response from her. To see all the lovelies that are the kids of friends and think that I am seeing them for the last. God this fuckin sucks. I remember when I used to be strong. er. Than I am, currently. I want for just another minute. Another goodbye. Another anything…other than goodbye.

Final thoughts.