The Art of Melted Crayons

Since Mali died in April, that the days that have passed since seem to all melt into each other.  Like crayons left out in the sun too long on a hot summer day.

The texts, calls, visits and messages I receive seem to draw me out of that melted crayon lump for a time.  As soon as that interaction is done I flow back into that lump of waxy, colored goo that is my life at the moment.

Dont get me wrong.  I have family that loves me and a lot of really good friends all trying to pickup pieces of me out of that melted mess and prop me up.  I would be lost without them.

I am sick of despair.  The gut wrenching, emptiness that hangs over you like a black cloud.  Despair has a waterlike quality that can seep its way into the cracks and soak everything with a grey cold, sogginess you can’t get dry from.

Mali must be looking out for me sometimes.  I saw some of the people in my life that are very important to me this past week.

Mali’s Godmother came over with her two beautiful boys.  Ruff and Tuff.  It was a joy to have spirited children in the house again.

My best friend Amy who hasn’t been two steps away in the last 6-7 years asked for help painting her shed.

Tim and I went over to to her place and drank a few Heinekens and painted for a few hours.  It was wicked hot but I was out of myself.  Nurses seem to always know just what you need when you need it.

The last two nights we ate dinner with my sister and brother in law.  Afterwards we strolled downtown looking for rocks.

It’s a game here.  People paint stones and hide them all over the city.  You find one, take a photo and post it on the Facebook page and rehide or keep them.  We found at least 7 last night.

During all this we ran into a very good work friend Brandon.  I was so glad to see him.  It was reminded of how much I miss my colleagues at work.  My work family.

Many of Mali’s friends have either stopped by the house or I ran into out in town.

Last night was Sophie and Jenna.  I marveled at how they have grown.  They were laughing and having a good time.  They should be.  Its summer and they are teens.  They are driving now.  They remind me so much of how our Mali was and should be.  I was grateful to see them.

I think the point I am trying to make is how life didn’t stop after that precious little girl abruptly left us.  I just hopped off the Merry-go-round and chose to melt like that clump of sticky crayon goo.

Inside of me I am angry about that.  Life doesn’t stop.  I am paralyzed with deep despair and anxiety over having to catch the Merry-go-round and get back on.

Mostly, that despite my greatest efforts, Mali is not coming back.  I either have to get on with it or throw the fuck it switch.

I am too afraid to do either and fear has never been in my vocabulary.  It has managed to sneak its way in and I am shocked at that.

I pray daily that the Blessed Mother intercede for me and help me grow strong enough to jump this obstacle.

I pray the rosary to offer all this unbearable suffering up as a sacrifice to ease someone else’s suffering.

Mostly I pray that Mali is safe wherever she is and her guide Brittney is with her. That they are taking care of each other until Britt’s Mother and I can be with them. That is a whole other topic I will talk about at a later time.




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