Subtleties of Life

 I am sick. Suddenly I am really tired all the time and my throat hurts. How? Who knows. Living in the Petri dish known as the hospital could do that to you. I'm wearing a mask with a windshield. My breath fogging up the plastic every now and then when I move just right. I realized I can't listen to music anymore. I drove here in silence. Xmas music makes me feel like I am in the twilight zone and the kind Jason likes makes me want to cry hysterically as soon as the chords start. This morning a car drove by blasting drake as I walked by his bedroom and I broke down. When he left for college he took almost everything and now it is all back. Everything except him. He was not in his bed, and I could not pretend he was away at school. That defense mechanism doesn't work in my head anymore. The kind that throws up pretty non offensive scenery to help me past the moment unscathed. The kind that quickly makes me think of something else so I don't give in to the anguish. Now every moment is real, I can't fake past them. Every moment whatever emotion I am in takes center stage and I have no control over it. 

He moved yesterday, almost getting himself out of bed. He started to sit up and move his hands to get off the bed which is amazing for someone confined to a bed for the last 6 weeks and terrifying because God forbid he hurts himself. He is on blood thinners falling out of bed could be catastrophic. But My boy is strong. So strong! You have no idea how strong this boy is. He looks like a lanky bag of bones but he exudes such force that can require me and 3 nurses to subdue him. 

He has looked around a little more purposeful in recent days. Nothing like what makes him my Jason. But noticeably different nonetheless. His long eyelashes looking like bat wings as they flutter to bring himself to a more conscious state. The specialist Dr Honig said that is how it starts. He will look around more purposefully and deliberate until one day he tries to communicate in a way we understand. It's working. At least we think so. I shaved his head because his hair was getting too long. I want him to be mad at me over it. I want him to wake up and want to argue with me. I would do anything for that. I talk to him, every single day. I can't remember talking this much. I told him about Grandma Vicky's dry ass Thanksgiving turkey and how Tristan won't stop talking. I told him how much we miss him, and how many of his friends are hoping to see him soon. Mostly I ask

Him to come back. To fight his way through the murky waters of psychosis and to give his mom a word, a knowing glance or a squeeze of the hand. Something to get me by again because I am running low. It's been a while since he raised an eyebrow for me and I'm clinging to the tattered threads of that memory for dear life. I need another hit Jason. I need another fix.

The Xmas tree is up in the lobby, it feels so strange to see the beautiful

Monstrosity there. Brilliant lights and bold metallic balls glistening in the lobby light, twinkling and inviting you to enter the euphoria of the season. The season for giving and family and everything else is upon us and my intended plans have flown out the window on fire. I will be here. Carmelo, family, friends and strangers taking Care of Xmas for my babies because their mommy is broken and she can only be one place at a time. I have to make sure Jason does not spend the holiday alone. I have to make sure that if there is a Xmas miracle I am here to see it.