Kasha in my head
So many things confuse me.
This article starts out with “A grizzly bear attacked seven teenagers in Alaska, injuring four of them …” Are we to assume that the grizzly only verbally attacked the other three?
This past weekend, in my hometown, there was another one of those disabled kid and parent murder-suicide attempt things. As you know, I get that. But this short article confuses the kasha out of me. The mother thinks the kid should die so she feeds the kid something the kid is allergic to and the kid actually dies. They find the mother with a rope around her neck, still alive. She is now charged with manslaughter. The prosecutor, supposedly someone with a college degree (?) is quoted as saying “There was a certain protocol that should have been followed as far as giving care for the allergy” that the mother didn’t take. You mean that after your kid has an allergic reaction to something you gave her with the intent to kill, you need to remember to tie the other end of the rope to a ceiling beam before jumping off the chair? Isn’t this why shotguns have two barrels?
I sent an email to my ex the other morning asking how David was. She said I would see him later in the day, he had a doctor’s appointment in town. After a bit of a “discussion” she admitted that she forgot to tell me.
It is getting exceedingly painful to see my own son. He does not know who I am, and I cannot fault him for that. Well, he may, since like his sister he has no communication, but there is no spark of recognition. His voice is deeper, his facial hair is hairier, he is stronger, and he is foreign to me. It pains me to even write this. And while at the appointment, his mother leaves the room as we are talking to the doctor and leaves me to answer questions that there is no way I can, only she can. She seems to run from everything. I really need to just take him into my home, but logistically I can barely have Pearlsky. I hate everything about the situation with my son. The pain is incredible, yet I have no outlet for it, no way out. It makes me want to borrow that rope.
Absolutely remember what your mother taught you “If you don’t have anything good to say, then don’t say anything at all, or Single Dad will hunt you down and personally deal with you” when you read this.
I have two more emails that ask me for advice or insight that I will post shortly for your input as well. How dare these people think I know my ass from my elbow anymore than any other wonderful, insightful, brilliant, caring, gorgeous Single Dad.
Didn’t know you were a local boy.I can only imagine your pain, and that of the mother involved in the story you quote.
Holy shit. It’s really the only expression I can think of to encompass this entire post.
I will send you a private email —
SD, if you would like we could talk about what would need to happen for David to live at home… and then look at if we can actually DO IT.
Because actually I’m pretty sure that it’s possible, certainly not easy (or cheap) – but possible? Yeah, maybe. Maybe the costs would be too great. Drop me an email if you like?
Hope you and P are okay.
Becca
Good! – getting in a little self-advertising at the end. Which coincidentally was enough to keep me from calling a suicide watch. I have no words for your pain – it is outside of my ability and I hate that.
I wish there was something I could do for you about David . . . I live so far away and can barely take care of my SELF . . . sharing some of your pain about it . . . wishing there was more I could do . . .
I’ve been trying to figure out what to say about the section you wrote about David. Something profound or even remotely interesting.
I think to try to say something ‘profound’ would be of dis-service of my ‘e-lationship’ with you. The pain is so visceral and real and comes across as being so deep that I think that I can’t really make an actual comment that you haven’t made yourself. And I would not try to relay something anecdotal about a feeling I had that you most likely have already felt on a level way beyond any depth I might be capable of matching, nor would you expect me to.
I’ll just say I HEART THE SHIT OUT OF YOU, and leave it at that. 😛