Friday, September 16, 2005

Transitions, Part II

Today was a little weird for me.

Backstep to yesterday and saying goodbye to Dad and Mom: I tried treating this as if I was just going back to DC again, just like the 100 or so times I had done over the last 10 years. But this time was obviously different. I had spent just about every waking hour with my folks, Mom especially, over the last 4 weeks during my recovery. At 39 years old, I didn’t think that I would be a man who needed his mother so badly. But I seriously don’t know how I would have gotten through without her. Yes, I am a self-proclaimed “momma’s boy”, always will be. So are my two younger brothers. Mom and my sister, Kim, are best friends. Mom is the center of our universe. We put her there and we keep her there – all things revolve around her. And she revolves around us.

Dad adores the fact that we flock to her like we do. It means more to him that we adore this woman that he has loved for the last 45+ years. We are close to Dad too, but Mom is the center of it all.

So saying goodbye to them was very hard. It was a combination of knowing I was going to be moving 1,200 miles away from my family in the next week; it was part realizing that the last 5-week ordeal was coming to a close and that life as we all used to know it would be returning to normal; it was realizing that as hard a time as some people have with this surgery, I came through it so remarkably well that at times I felt almost guilty for not having a more difficult recovery; and it was also realizing that for the last 5 weeks I was surrounded constantly by people who cared about me and now I would be out there in the world doing it all on my own.

The latter realization hit me this morning on the Metro. Yesterday, my youngest brother, Mike, and Kim drove me the 3 hours from the folks’ place back to my house in DC. I took them to dinner at Tunnicliff’s on the Hill, and then we popped in to see my friend Kelly, so that Kim (who had talked to Kelly several times on the phone during my surgery) could meet Kelly face to face. Kim, Mike and I walked through Adams Morgan and then came back and crashed at my place. Saying goodbye to them this morning as they headed back home was the final step.

So on the Metro this morning, I got on the train and had my epiphany that for the first time in many weeks I was surrounded by people who just didn’t know. They had no idea what I had been through or even what I was still facing. And for some reason, I got mad at them. I got mad at each person on my train – people I didn’t even know. I was mad that they didn’t care enough to know. And then I realized that I was alone in this, at least just for a little while anyway.

Ex#5 is having a house-warming on Sunday. That’s going to be my first official outing in DC and it will surely begin the social activities I will face next week. I am looking forward to seeing him, my other friends, and being social again. Until then, I will rest, sleep a lot, and watch some DVDs.

But today, for the rest of the day, it will be a little weird for me.

5 comments:

  1. .......................Damn, this stuff stirs me everytime I read it. Like awakening a bear that has been hybernating far too long. Two families on opposite ends of the US but yet so many similarities. Before my dad passed away some 2 1/2 years ago, much of his happiness was his family and knowing what made his life partner the happiest was her children and the bond between them.

    Dop, as always, thanks for sharing one moment of your life.
    ...Tony

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  2. Thanks for these very poignant posts, Dop.

    You're out there, but you're not truly alone. All you have to do is reach out.

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  3. your experience on the train is valid and I am sure it is felt by many. I myself have experieced it and I hate it. But as a Buddhist, I try to apply the logic of interdependence; how we feel or think we are independent but then think of the food we eat, the clothes we wear, the houses, tools, cars; they are all a product of countless others whom we have never known.
    So don't feel anger, instead thank everyone you never knew who were involved in the love, care and nurturing that was involved to bring you back to life.
    love and peace
    jampa

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  4. No one gives a damn about your mindless, stereotypical white homo banter! We both know that you will be back to wearing leather harnesses and making barking noises at guys soon enough. Enough with the pity parade!

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  5. That was totally uncalled for!!!

    I enjoy this blog immensely! It has been a real eye-opener.

    Besides, I can't wait until Dop puts on the harness and starts barking again! I hope he shares pictures and stories with those of us who can't participate.

    Bring it on!

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