I just lay here in my covid isolation bed, rocking back and forth, moaning and whining, feeling very very sorry for myself.
Have you had it? Because I have it worse than anyone, even people who died. You think I shouldn’t make light of all the people who died of Covid? Well maybe you shouldn’t make light of how icky I feel. I have a headache! My throat hurts! The coughing! The chills! Runny nose! Body aches and fatigue! I don’t like any of it! Not one little bit do I like. And I bet you didn’t have to deal with your obnoxious bleeding vagina the whole time either.
Plus two gross boys who don’t even care about anything and instead of cleaning up they just make bigger messes and I’m too tired to yell or plead. I just lay here, limp and sad. “Children. Mother loved you. Or she tried to anyway. Leave me. Go, set forth into this world, don’t look back.”
I should start feeling better tomorrow though. And technically it’s my freedom day, when I can leave the house. Little does the CDC know, I’ve left my house MULTIPLE TIMES. the world didn’t stop needing shit from me because I got stupid Covid.
Two years, I had the cleansing light and pure love of god within me.
No more. Covid finally caught me. Tarnished me and my pristine record of not having Covid.
Could have been the abortion rally but who knows. I also attended an outdoor happy hour Thursday afternoon, for about 45 mins, and two others have tested positive from that. So maybe it was there? A few corporate bigwigs had flown in and were in attendance, so they’re probably the source. But maybe I was the evil super spreader and gave it to them! I share because I care.
On top of this abundance of demonic joy, I also got my period, so I’m coughing and dying and suffering and crying and bleeding and having to get up and change my tampon every five fucking seconds like I am some sort of youthful child-bearing asshole. I am not! I am an old miserable crone asshole, with zero youth left in me but someone has neglected to tell my ovaries so they keep on churning out lousy eggs.
I did finally take a shower, though. because I am incredibly brave and strong and a beacon of hope and inspiration.
If I do die from Covid, it will be in my gross period panties, and I cannot think of a more fitting legacy.
And I am sorry to be whining about my sickness on a day like this. I do not have the physical, mental or emotional strength to process it all. those poor sweet perfect babies. I would hug my own if I could, but I don’t want to give them covid, so I’ll just cry instead.
Because of the snow storm, the school had no choice but to move Ry’s graduation from red rocks to the crummy old Denver coliseum.
When I first learned this news, I was quite upset. devastated actually. I may have been slightly melodramatic about it. why even bother to go? I thought. For real. I thought this. That we just wouldn’t even bother with it.
Then I cried in the shower. A lot. I got mad and yelled at my kids over the slightest infractions. I took a bunch of drugs to numb my disappointment. I murdered a bunny.
And naturally (since everything is about me) I blamed myself. Yet another failure on my part. Stupid I know. I can’t control the snow! And my brain knew this. It was no one’s fault.
But my heart? The universe hates me and wants to ruin every good thing in my life. If only I had been a better person, a better mother, the snow would have come a day earlier. Or a day later.
I so wanted this experience for him (for me?) How amazing, right? not everyone gets to say they graduated at red rocks. After so many years of garbage parenting, at least he’d have this memory.
But it was such a miserable day, weather-wise. Rain would have been annoying enough, but the snow and the cold? Had they proceeded with the plan, it would have ruined the ceremony. The amazing part of red rocks is being outside, with the views, the overall atmosphere. It is magical. But all of that would have been impossible to enjoy,
The coliseum was fine. It wasn’t crummy. So once we got inside, out of the snow, and into our seats, I started feeling better. It wasn’t red rocks but at least we were all dry and warm and the kids could enjoy their moment fully.
With our seats secured, I found Ry to take pictures. he told me he had somehow lost his tassel. You know, the one that goes on the hat, that you switch over to the other side in the grand grad tradition. Ugh. He wouldn’t have red rocks and now he wouldn’t have this! My fault again for failing to bring a spare one, which we had at home.
Back at my seat, I’m telling my sister about how bummed we were about not having a tassel. A lady sitting near us hears me and offers up her own graduating daughter’s extra tassel. “Oh I don’t need it, she has hers, please take it.” Her gentle kindness overwhelmed me and I started to cry. She did, too. Mothers <3
I offered her money, but she refused. So after blubbering my deep gratitude, I rushed off to find Ry. He is quiet, doesn’t reveal much emotion, but I knew how happy it made him that he had a tassel again. It’s silly really, it doesn’t mean anything, the tassel switch, but it’s a part of it all, and I was pleased he wasn’t going to miss out on it.
Over the next few hours, I lived a lifetime in that coliseum. The ceremony was a roller coaster: sweet and touching and goofy and long; I cried and laughed, I was happy and sad, bored and heartsick, proud and nervous, so full of regrets and hope and joy.
One of my favorite parts was when they threw their hats:
I’m not much for pomp and circumstance but I was okay with it today. I am old now but I still remember. that surging feeling of release and relief, the oncoming wave, how scary and intoxicating it was.
I mean… the awe on his face here as he looks to his unknowable future:
On this day, what can I say to you? My little baby.
Of course I want what every parent wants for their child. a better life, an easier life. But it’s more than just that. make your way not towards happiness (nothing is more flimsy and fleeting). instead, try working towards something that is authentic and genuine.
That’s when you’ll find goodness and love and the strength to let your heart roam. You’ll get lost but that’s how you learn your way.
Not all shadows are bad. Find courage to explore the dark caves… secret delights await you.
be fearful and confident. because sometimes you’ll be wrong and sometimes you’ll be right and you need both to walk those rocky shores.
And when you get tired, take time to rest in the haze of the white.
humanity can be a real dick punch, and joy is in short supply, so take it when you can get it. Just be kind, gentle and soft. It’s more comfy.
Days are long, years are short. revel in the small surprises and unexpected detours. It’s those hidden pockets where you’ll find the best people.
The world is chaos, but some magic still remains. if you know where to look.
One last thing. I picked you. When I was alone and looking up to that vast ocean, it is you I saw. my quiet little star. nestled deep in the cool velvet. I picked you.
Ryland is graduating this Friday and there is also a winter storm warning for Friday. Because of course it’s supposed to snow, on may 20th, when his red rocks graduation ceremony takes place. BECAUSE OF COURSE.
Every since I moved here there has been one final snowfall in may. Usually on or around Mother’s Day. And I guess Ry graduating is kind of like Mother’s Day. It’s just Colorado being Colorado. I would have preferred it be itself on like Saturday but what can you do.
So, this Friday, snowy graduation at red rocks. Next Friday, bob’s burgers movie. The Friday after that, Nick’s in DC for his school trip. Exciting stuff in the Christa household.
