being back for thanksgiving, a few weeks after I left, and a little over a month since my dad died–is strange. His presence–something that was so strong the first few nights after he died–is still here, but not in the same way.
Strangely, this is the first time in I dont know how long, where I’ve been home and felt the way I did when my sister and I were 14 and 15, and my brother was 8 or 9. I feel just like I did back then for some weird unknown reason, and this regression has made it all the more sad when I realize that my dad isn’t here.
I spent the weekend going through my dad’s things–tons of books and letters and saved momentos of the life he once had. The pieces of who my dad was are slowly coming together, and i realize how much I will never know about my dad. By the time he was my age, he had done and seen and lived so much. And me–I’m just here.
Tonight, dinner with my brother and my mom (sister went home yesterday) was completely silent. Everyone was lost in their own private thoughts, poking at food, going through the motions. I looked at my mom and saw her sitting at this huge table, alone, and I felt a wave of sadness consume me, and then hold tight in my chest with all the other emotions.
The truth is, that I am moving forward, but my heart remains here, at home. This dissonance between here and there makes me feel as if my chest will literally explode. I haven’t been able to cry or laugh or feel much of anything. And the more time that passes, the tighter my chest feels. I wish there were a way to make it go away.
I’m on a plane back to SF tomorrow. Back to my nothing job and my nothing life. Back to the motions. Get up. Go to work. Play with cat. Watch my other self laugh at something or make a stupid joke. Go to room. Stare at moving pictures on the tv until 3 am despite the fact that I’m absolutely exhausted. Go to sleep. Wake up in 3 hrs. Go to work. Repeat. Weekday, weekend. It’s all one big long day.
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A sidenote: My mom and I went shopping together today and I discovered both to my horror (and delight?) that I fit into size 5 Junior jeans. Wtf. I’m not sure how that is even possible. I haven’t fit into size 5 Jr. jeans since I was…14?
