1 April 2016
The Squid and I are both out of school today, so we took a trip to the middle school she attended (and where I worked). It was good to see my former co-workers, and to roam the halls again.
But it also drove home the fact that this was the last time that the Squid would more than likely be visiting the school.
So once again, the depression is spiraling out of control. I'm trying so hard not to cry.
KMS wasn't a school that she was zoned for. It was however, the school that I got my first teaching job at. When it came time for her to attend middle school, she decided to go to school where I worked. We laugh now about how there were so few white kids at the school that they weren't even a subgroup on the CRCT. She was in the gifted/accelerated classes, and had the best teachers while she was there. She was part of the news staff, the volleyball team, etc.
No one knew we were coming except for the media specialist, so the Squid got to co-anchor the morning announcements (like she used to), and I said the pledge. Everyone was so happy to see her and was incredibly proud of the smart and beautiful young woman she's become.
Letting go is so hard. Driving home, even she was a little sad. This is the kid that I've gone to see movies with on the day they were released without telling her father; we'd see the same movie with him a few days later. This is the kid I'd go to the mall with, to ULTA or Sephora, to the shops in downtown Decatur, Little Five Points, Target... It wouldn't matter if we split up when we got there, but it was the comfort of knowing that we were there together. We'd spend hours together at Barnes & Noble, just reading and wandering. We'd go see live music together at Lakewood, the Tabernacle, Philips, Georgia Dome, the Masquerade - - anywhere. She worked Dragon*Con with me, and went to Voodoo Fest.
I've been to all of her volleyball tournaments except for one, and she only has one (possibly two) left before her career is over. She's taking her first spring break trip away from me for a whole week; this is time that I'm used to spending with her - - and I'm losing that also.
Who is going to do those things with me in the future?
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I'll admit that part of this is due to the fact that I see my parents aging before my eyes, and knowing that they won't be here much longer. They're in their eighties. My father has pancreatic cancer and my mom barely leaves the house. When they die, I'll be the oldest member of the family.
I don't feel old. I know I'm not in my twenties, but I feel like I'm in my thirties. And watching my parents get old and face death reminds me that my death is coming also.
Dying has always been my greatest fear. I'm not religious, so I can't sit here and say I believe in heaven or hell. I want to believe that something happens to us when we die. That we are reincarnated; that we don't fade to nothingness. I won't be alive to see a future that includes the technology of Star Trek or Star Wars. I know that my end isn't going to happen tomorrow, and that I still have years to go. But I don't want to die. I want to live forever. I don't want to live a life without knowing if Larry Stylinson was real, or without a Harry Styles in it. :-) I don't want my child to live a life that I'm not an integral part of. And that's what has me spiraling into depression.
Some days I'm good. Some days I'm not. Today is not a good day for me.
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