and you're a hundred thousand miles away;
They say that absence makes the heart grow fungus.”
Barenaked Ladies
On Thursday afternoon I picked up Silas from day-care. It had been a full week since I had seen him, and as past experience has demonstrated, the seven day stretch in the parenting schedule when I don’t see the boyz is pretty tough on me. What I didn’t appreciate was how hard it is on the guyz too. When I arrived, Silas ran to me and threw himself into my arms and began to sob. Between great suppurating heaves of his little chest, and through the iron embrace of his meaty arms, he kept saying, “I missed you Steph, I missed you Steph.”
Of course, I sobbed too. Even the hardest heart would crack with Silas’ ardent, tear stained clutching. And though I’ve been accused of many things in my life, heard-hearted has not been among them. So Silas and I held each and cried and then went to pick up Rio, where I felt the enormous wave of relief wash over me again when I saw his bright beautiful face.
It seems these days I’m always missing someone, though this last week has been particularly trying with the boyz at their mom’s, and Jenn in Canmore. It was only a week alone, but it seemed so much longer, and I have confided to Jenn that I simply don’t like being apart from those that I love so dearly. Plainly put, life is better when they are around.
But absence from those I love will be the norm for some time to come, so I had better get used to it.
My heart aches for my children when I don’t seem them for a week, and I yearn to be near the woman I love when apart for more than a few days at a time. I’m not wild that sometimes I must be separated from my children and my partner at the same time; I don’t like the feeling of so often missing someone I love from my life.
I don’t really like how I handle absence. I get lonesome, for certain, but I also get bored. (God, I even watched a U Tube video of “Come Monday” by Jimmy Buffett this week. Now that’s pathetic.) My mind plays games, makes up stories about what my loved ones are thinking while I am apart from them. I worry that others are taking my place in my children’s lives. I repeat my mantra of trust and belief in my relationship.
At times when I’m apart from those I care most about I respond with fear, rather than empathy, to the circumstances that keep us apart. Sometimes that fear becomes self loathing, and sometimes it manifests as anger.
Maybe that’s why the Barenaked Ladies say that “absence makes the heart grow fungus.”
Every so often think how difficult it would be to serve in the military and do a tour of duty overseas, or, God forbid, to find oneself in jail for months or years at a time. I simply couldn’t bear that.
When I had both Rio and Silas aboard we headed for home. As it most often does, our route from Rio’s after-school care to our place in Fernwood took us right past Kat and Andy’s place. Andy has been away for the better part of two weeks working in the Rockies, and when we approached the light near their place, the boyz saw his truck. I quickly learned that they hadn’t yet seen him since his return, so we peeled into the drive way and I knocked on the door. He was thrilled to see them. I knew how he felt.
I remember the first time I was away from Rio for ten days. He was a year old or so. When I finally saw him it was overwhelming.
Quantum physicists tell us that anything that was once touching remains connected at the quantum level. They’re talking about the theory of entanglement, and are referring to atoms that are hurtling through space (you and me included) post Big Bang. But for me, entanglement means something different, and maybe something more.
Everything that once touched remains connected. On Thursday night, Rio climbed into bed and reached for my hand. His six year old fingers are warm and soft and strong, and I love the way they curl around my own, especially as he’s falling asleep. Silas climbed on top of me and told me over and over again that he loved me. When we are apart I remain connected to Rio and Silas because at the most fundamental level – love – we have never been separated, even for a second.
Everything that once touched remains connected. I write these words and the phone rings. It’s Jenn. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her. So often I will think of her and the phone will ring. She tells me it’s the same for her: she thinks of me and I Skype her, or am penning an email at just that moment. It’s not easy being apart. Neither of us like it, but its how are lives are arranged now. But everything that once touched remains connected. With every moment that passes we become further entangled.
Tonight my boyz are asleep upstairs, and tomorrow we’ll go to the airport and pick up Jenn. And for one blissful night, we’ll all be under one roof.
