There are many bright spots in the dark abyss of my life currently.
Foremost is my granddaughter. She is learning to walk. The joy in her toothy, big mouthed grin is indescribable. I laugh out loud with glee when she crawls to.the middle of the living floor and then squats like a Sumo wrestler and slowly rises up to a standing position like a power lifter. Of course, whoever is watching her performance breaks out in thunderous applause. At which her grin widens and does an encore performance.
At this moment, 4:54 a.m., I was awakened to loud babbling from my daughter and soninlaw's room. It sounds like a cross between Russian and Swahili.
I open the door quietly and peer inside.
My daughter and soninlaw are fast asleep. My granddaughter is sitting straight backed in the middle of their bed, talking to the ceiling. In Swahili-Russian.
My daughter rolls over and says, "Shh!"
I close the door gently. I am on grandbaby duty. I'll stay awake, blogging with one ear tuned to her babbling, in case she doesn't go back to sleep.
I can't help but think of my son. He had the same wide-mouth grin of absolute joy when he took his first steps. True to his character, he learned to walk in one day. He also learned to ride a bike in one day
Without training wheels.
Now he is learning to control his impulses. Especially his drinking. Behind bars. His revelations are like thunderbolts of lightening. And they are not frightening. They are a blessing. But the not knowing about his fate is tearing me apart.
Truthfully he is always on my mind. His current situation, locked up in jail causes me a roller coaster ride emotionally.
On one hand, he has matured more these past 47 days than in mist of his life. I am proud of him and frankly impressed at his reslience. I look forward to his last call of the night. He usually talks about the books he is reading. He is currently reading about the Lewis and Clark expedition. Did you know Meriwether Lewis was only 35 when he died of gunshot wounds to the head and abdomen?.It remains a mystery whether he committed suicide or was murdered. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/meriwether-lewis-mysterious-death-144006713/
Sometimes his last call of the night is a request for prayer. He asks me to pray out loud on the phone. It warms my heart, and again reminds me of when he was a little boy. Nighttime tuck ins always included a story and a prayer.
He asked me the other night what happened to his favorite bedtime book: Tiggy Goes to the Hospital.
I laughed put loud as I remembered how I read that to him every night for many years! I told him I thought it was in storage.
He asked me if I could find it to read it to him again. I choked back tears as I told him I would try to find "Tiggy".
How I wish I could go back to that time of innocence. Hold him on my lap. And protect him from harm.
Those days are gone. I cannot control the outcome of his trial, besides being there. And much prayer.
And I am at the mercy of family, friends and strangers as I try to raise bail. It is humbling and frustrating. Yet I can't help but feel blessed that so any people have offered support.
I have cut corners everywhere I can to save money for his phone calls, commissary and bail. I am proud to say that when I go to Portland, I average only $3 a day on coffee and food! I have given up spend Starbucks in favor of $1 large coffees at McDonald's. And after I've purchased 5, the 6th cup is free!
I eat an enormous breakfast at home, pack some fruit and nuts, then allow myself my $1 coffee and one other items off of the dollar menu at my fast food restaurant of choice.
All my good nutrition down the drain. Once the smoke clears, I plan on meal prepping and giving up my daily cheeseburgers. And back to the gym I shall go!
If this stress doesn't kill me.
But for now my daily cheeseburger and $1 coffee gives me something to look forward to besides my son's release and the end of his trial.
Another bright spot is my round loom. I have learned how to knit hats on a round loom. Just yesterday I learned how to make a brim!
I was ecstatic. I knit in the bus. I pray with each stitch. It is meditative and calming. And I have such pride for finally creating a hat that looks like a hat and not a misshapen blob!
I am making hats for each of family members for Christmas. Again, saving money for my son. But I am feeling quite a lot of love going into each of these hats.
If I have any leftover, perhaps I will sell them. Another fundraiser - "Hats for Andrew"!
It is now 5:34 a.m. The baby has stopped babbling. I think I'll get a few more minutes of sleep before I face the day.
I wish you blessings this day.
I am including the link to Andrew's gofundme page in case you are moved to donate. Even $10 will help. I would be eternally grateful. Andrew wants to make sure everyone knows that he plans on repaying everyone once his case clears and he is back to work.
https://www.gofundme.com/5qm5r4-please-help-my-son
Love,
Zita
p.s. If you prefer to write a check, you may email me at: pianoteacherpdx@yahoo.com for my mailing address.
p.p.s. Let me know if you are interested in a hat!
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