Lately

 Lately there has been a fair amount of personal tragedy in my life / the life of those around me / no longer around me. 

One week it was my mother's sister / my aunt who passed. The next week I found myself overwhelmed with the doom of the goings on of the world that I live in (relatable content - so cringe!), the next week it was a very lovely man / friend I used to work with and certainly loved. These things usually come in threes, so I allowed myself to believe that that had been it. "It"; a word, here, meaning: "too much already".

My circle and I were spared exactly three weeks before my mother's partner / my stepfather passed. There are many details that make this information so much more overwhelmingly gloomy, but I will tuck those inside of myself to fester so you will not have to. (It's already tragic enough. What would that do, exactly?)

I had not taken a day off of work for any of the previous, but I knew this last hit was going to be critical, so I texted my manager and let her know. I was - very foolishly - only going to take one day off before heading back and pretending to not have a family or problems for eight hours again. My manager offered the week off (a mere two extra days for liittle old part-time me) under the pretense of "in case you wanna go visit your mom". She is a very thoughtful person / manager to offer this. To use the little information she has on me to my advantage. I was very grateful. And so: I was off. 

My mother, being the original version of my copy, did not want company at first. I respected that and stayed in NY, by my phone all week. I waited for her to change her mind. She didn't. I was glad she didn't because it is a very visceral, fiery torture to be needed by your loved ones and not be there. It may be the worst feeling in the world. But at least the anxiety was lessened by the all-consuming work factor being vacuumed away.

Now, after I have had my big, sobby day and am attempting to move through the thick, marshy substance that is my day-to-day, I can plan a proper trip. Granted; it will only be a few days and I would obviously like it to be more, but (alas!) I have only just spent my "more" to do my own processing. I will pack a bag. I will drive up to Maine and I will park Jasper at my mother's place. I will clean, I will cook, I will escourt, I will sit... I will do anything she needs or thinks of within the small amount of time I am able to grant us. This is the only thing I can think to do. And - aside from this blog that two people read - I will tell very few others where I am and when. I will not exist for those few days except within the context of my mother and myself. ...And her cat, of course. 

I think I must have been very fortunate to not have much tragedy of this kind in my life until now. I am certain so many others my age would / will have been so well-vetted by now that they could flow through it with a sad grace. I know that death is certain and I know that all three of these individuals were of a certain age where such things should be less shocking. It is not less shocking. And it is just sad. 

The only solice, at the moment, is that I know exactly where to neatly fold my emotions. I have not always been in such a position. And confusion makes the tragedies a little rougher.