It's Sunday night and I watch Grey's Anatomy with my daughter and we don't care at all about the Superbowl. We watch Grey's. We love it. And tonight my heart cracks wide open and I bury my face in the blanket on my lap and I weep, all because of yesterday.
It was Saturday night and it went like this:
I'm off tomorrow, after 11 days in a row, and so tonight feels like a celebration for G and I. There is dinner in front of the TV - and a rented movie from Amazon Prime - and there are brownies AND ice cream AND chips. I am indulgent and catering to his whims. When our movie is almost over, there is the ultimate finale: "hey G", I say. "I don't have to get up early for work tomorrow, do you want to have a sleep over in my bed?" He hoots with joy while kicking his little bare feet and pumping his little fists into the air. He crows, "This is the BEST night EVER!" I agree with my whole heart.
We are snuggled up in my bed. The heated mattress pads are on, we are in flannels and reclining on an over abundance of pillows. The down comforter and heavy quilt feel safe and cozy. I check some last minute emails in the glow of the reading light. G says, out of the blue, "how old would your momma be now if she were alive?" We've talked about this in the past. He has grandparents from his father and sees them often enough to have a relationship and connection. Both of my parents are long gone, as well as my stepfather. His only connection to 'grandparents' is his fathers parents whom he sees once every few months.
"She would be, um, 76 I think?" I am bad at math and try to calculate as quick as I can - he is amazing at math and I don't feel up to the shame of being wrong right now. He thinks for a minute and then says, "But how old was she when she died?" In the back of my mind I understand that he is asking about my age, and death, and my longevity but my mouth just blurts out the answer, "She was 52", before I can fully grasp that A) he is good at math and B) I am 49.
"Ohhhh..." he says in a whisperish voice (as much as a wild monkey of a 6 yr old boy can whisper) "52? That's so sad momma, 52 just isn't enough!"
*crickets*
"Yeah, buddy, I know... it wasn't enough...but don't worry, I'm strong and healthy and I'll be here for a long long time!" I lie. Who knows? I mean... really. Who knows?
I am crying, again, as I type this.
He is so right. 52 was not enough. Not for her, for her husband, not for me or my brothers, or for HER brothers, not for her mother, or for the grandchildren she knew - nor for the ones she never met. It wasn't enough. Not even close. I cried while hugging my lanky, toothless, 6 year old elbow-ey little boy - the one who never met my momma (who would have LOVED him!) and he hugged me back.
Tonight,because of last night; while watching Greys Anatomy with my 21 year old daughter (who also never met my momma, her grammy, who would have loved her immeasurably) my heart broke along some fault line that was created some 24 years ago and it remains a little wider tonight, a little more crumbly and unstable, and so surprisingly that I'm unable to go for more than 5 minutes without it pinching and hurting me.
I don't know what it's like to lose a child - a piece of you that has grown under your heart and within your body - I don't know what it's like to lose the partner you've chosen to share your life with and have memories and growth with - I don't know what it's like to lose a sibling - a cell compatible bond and the one you share childhood experiences and the shaping of your adultness with - but losing the ones who created you? The one who birthed you from their own body, the ones who nurtured and protected and rejoiced in you? The ones who know who you are, who you were, who you COULD be? I've lost those... I know that pain...and that emptiness...and that really fucking sucks.
Grey's Anatomy didn't break me tonight - it just reminded me where I was already broken. Broken in the way that lets light shine in and illuminate me so that I shine brighter, so that I can shine on someone else who needs some light. I might have buried my face in a blanket and hid for a moment tonight, but tomorrow I will remember to shine in all my broken emptiness and to be a vessel of hope and brilliance that can light the way for someone else.
Thank you Grey's Anatomy. Thank you momma. Thank you daddy. Thank you Mike. I am full of light because of you.
