As soon as I walked inside the house I quickly busied myself with household and family chores. My son is a junior in high school and it’s time to start planning. I spent several hours scheduling college visits, SAT courses and his future.
My husband once told me he thought I was a high functioning depressive. For weeks he would tell me I should talk to my doctor. I would silently think "Of course I'm depressed. My mom just died, my daughter moved out and I still miss my dad." But depressed enough to call a doctor and ask about therapy and medication??? I've seen the commercials. I'm nowhere near the state of curling up in a fetal position within a dark room and unable to function. In fact, I'm more productive than the average person, grieving or not.
But then it finally clicked. I'm a high functioning depressive who uses life's distractions to stuff my feelings. Similar to someone who uses food, alcohol or drugs. I cannot slow down for one second or the feelings and sadness settle into that open space.
After finishing up with busy work at home I once again find myself in the quiet of my car. I’m waiting for my son to finish refereeing a basketball game. Within this metal cage, there are no tasks to distract me. I cannot turn the radio up loud enough to drown my thoughts. The memories and sadness have found their way in, and I can feel the tears on their way out.
One day….December 2nd will make me happy. One day I will celebrate my parents who were high school sweethearts, married at 19 and built a wonderful life. One day I will celebrate they began their life with only $40 a week to live, but achieved amazing things with hard work and sacrifice. One day I will celebrate they were married 49 1/2 years before cancer separated them for a short time. One day I will celebrate my mom and dad are together again. But today, today I will feel sad and cry for what I've lost.