Holidays have been hit and miss, although mostly miss for the bulk of my lifetime. 2000 was pretty good. 2009/2010 wasn’t horrific. 2015 was a repeat of 2014 and that’s not what I wished upon a star for once upon a time.

Thanksgiving never really did a lot for the kid. When my mom mom was alive it had its moments. Cooking with her, and watching her pride as she fed our family.  I still miss that woman every day.  I ride by the block she used to live on 5 days a week and the memory of her melts just a little of the ice surrounding my soul.

When mom mom passed that was basically a wrap on happy Thanksgivings for me.

When Clyde came along we started some new traditions that Autism pretty much killed, but it was promising there for a moment.

Since I am an anti social Scrooge not being forced to celebrate holidays works for me.  All Clyde requires is me and my ability to cook and provide Elmo.  He doesn’t need turkey and dressing ( yes dressing not stuffing stuffing is that bullshit other people eat ). He tolerates me hanging Christmas decorations as long as I don’t infringe on his space or time.

If we are together, he’s good.  That is a big reason why I am not good.

I don’t want a lot of “family” around me during this time of year, I just want those who matter to me.  I ache to hear Bonnie complaining that I haven’t made seven courses for just the three of us, and wondering why we can’t have greens and cabbage and sweet potatoe pie.

I wont miss her requests to call valerie, but I will miss her trying to sneak ice cream when I am not looking.

I won’t miss 8 stacks of pots and pans that only I can wash, but I will miss Clyde feeding his cranberry sauce to Onyx and Onyx looking up at me like – you need to pretend you don’t see this.

Surrounded by my people is what I want and it still seems so far away. Wednesday during my visit I told Clyde about my plans.  He asked for his grandmother.  I somehow didn’t collapse to the floor but I wanted to badly. I wanted to snatch my child and run and tell him we were breaking Bonnie out.

If there was someplace for us to run to, I just might but there still is no place to go.

Not yet.

I have a list here of places with waiting lists that is 10 pages deep. Ten.

That is 10 pages of housing with waiting lists, Mandisa only knows how long the actual lists are for each.

In a moment of tine deafness I got an email.  I know he doesn’t mean it but he says things sometimes that make me want to snap back and say really? Did you tuck your kids in tonight? It’s hard, for all of us, but today and days like today it’s hardest on me.

It is a part of why reach out so infrequently now.  In the complicated chart of “us” – when you finish the figure eights and quadratic equations the answer remains I am always alone.  That is my immediate future and to reach out to ease that solitude feels like I am setting myself up for even more pain the threshold of which I passed long ago.

I am thankful I haven’t done anything irreversible. That’s about all I have today though. It is th tiniest of victories but I won’t celebrate.  Life is throwing me flags like I am Cam Newton in the end zone these days and I cannot afford to lose 15 more yards. The road ahead is too long, too narrow and too lonely.

 

Aphrodite Brown