I didn’t think that I’d miss my family so much. Going through this whole thing with my brother, trying to avoid being an agitator, making sure that everyone else gets re-integrated with the family… all under the guise of being the most capable of taking the pain. I took the pain as a kid with Dad’s drinking – being willing to be the “bad guy” for the greater good. I thought I would be able to put those emotions aside with this one, because I’ve been so good at it in the past. Fact is, I’m still really good at it. This is just really hard.
Work has its frostiness and although there are caring ears perking up (thank you Work Friend for sticking your neck out, in the way that you could, telling me about my recently-warped use of booze), it is still wicked freaking hard. This place is not a kind environment, not one of hopefulness or warmth. This place is where love dies, tears fall. But that’s a story for another day.
Given that work is this way, family being unavailable really really really is hard. It is so hard that it leaks through my armour. I went to pick something up from their house today. I lingered because I could. I left with a hug. I went back into the house for a second, longer hug. I drove away with tears in my eyes, sunglasses the only thing to keep them from the world.
I miss them. I know we need this to be this, but I miss them. I think I would miss them even without all the crap at work and intermittentness at home. They’re not perfect, but they’re mine.
I love them.