I am not around…. I know that – I am not ever around anymore. When I post something it is depressing or seems bitter, and you wonder why Keri isn’t funny anymore.
I’ve hinted… I’ve skirted… I have touched ever-so-gingerly at the raw nerves that I feel like consume me every second of every day while I just try to navigate raising my kid and taking care of my family and having lost the last tiny shred of the mighty faith I had for so very long, and spinning in an abyss of a reality that feels like a dystopian novel I probably would have hated reading in AP English all those years ago.
I don’t say anything… I don’t spend my time here, because I am not fun. I am just angry, and scared, and disappointed, and embarrassed and SO VERY ENRAGED….
And I am also a person who (in spite of what some who know me would say,) is quiet, and awkward, and not apt to challenge someone unless they force my hand.
In short – you all never came here to stand beneath my soap box about anything, but that is where I feel myself standing at this point in my life (even if it is mostly watching, wide-eyed and horrified,) and so I just kind of stopped talking.
Funny things still happen (I am looking at you, my amazing coworkers who make me howl with share-worthy stories all the time,) and heart-wrenching still things happen (hey Daddy, I will bring you all the gatorade on the planet if you can just keep your sodium up so we don’t spend 4 days in ICU wondering if you had a stroke EVER AGAIN and I love you the most, just sayin…) but I don’t write about anything anymore.
Mostly now, I just look at Jr…. sometimes I am so flummoxed by him because he has SO MUCH fight in him right now…. At like, EVERYTHING sometimes it seems. Then I realize that I better let him keep it… because he is not safe. We are NOT SAFE.
And every second of every day of his whole life from the time he is WAY too young to have to do it, he will have to fight… He will have to fight the hatred that keeps bubbling up showing it’s ugly-ass worthless face in his world…. He will have to fight because so many people think it isn’t worth it to stand up and act to keep him safe at school (and everywhere else.) He will have to fight because it has become standard for news stations to put together one page graphics that show how many victims went to each hospital and how serious their injuries are to provide quick overviews of those subjected to bullets or bombs or WHATEVER in their schools and their places of worship or work or recreation or anywhere because it is dispassionately normal now.
So much of the fight I see in him switches in tone to questions of his vulnerability in our quiet moments together, and so I can’t really be confused by it – he is scared and defensive… and he should be.
And I am too.
I don’t want to lose sight of our life. I don’t want to miss the “everyday funny” of my still-occasionally reluctantly suburban living. The milestones of Jr’s awesomeness. The celebrating of the day-to-day with The Mr, and Potter, and the rest of our family and friends. I *want* a heart not hardened. And I want Jr to look back someday, reading his mom’s words, and feel those moments. So he can remember that it wasn’t all just the fight.
So I will try harder, Jr… for you. To keep writing –to keep seeing those things now, in this time of storm and trial and fear.
And also I will try harder to fight for you – so you always know that you may feel like you have to – but you are NEVER alone..
Winky kisses and Avicii hats forever – buddy… you and me.