From Hunter

On May 14th I would have been celebrating my 22nd birthday, that is, had I not taken that extra dose of cough syrup with codeine. That little miscalculation cost me everything and it turns out all the things I was anxious about- people liking me, how I looked, how to handle the discomfort and pain in my body that resulted (I hate to admit) from taking Xanax for years and smoking so much cannabis that I coughed up black crud every morning-- it turns out that all of that could have been handled had I known the alternative.

As I slipped away in my bed, in the room I grew up in, my breathing slowed without even noticing it. I had no idea that I'd be unable to come back. It was weird, like diving into the ocean and then noticing that rather than swimming in darkness, I was swimming, weightless, in light. I was confused. It was beautiful and there was no pain, but somewhere beneath me I could see people around my body and I felt my mothers' wailing. I frantically tried to swim back the way I came, I would have done that even if it meant going through the cold darkness, but I was held in the light by some invisible force. I fought and cried out for my moms, I wanted them to know I could see them and I was trying, really trying, to come back.

It was no use.

Then, I felt the presence of a man I didn't know. He stood with me and said, "I know... trust me, I know. You have to learn to be here now."

"But, what happened? Where am I? This wasn't my plan."

"You made a mistake, Hunter... and now you are with us-- you left your body behind."

"I'm dead? I have to go back, I can't hurt my moms like this. No!"

"You made that choice already, I'm afraid."

"I can't go back? Oh, my God. What have I done?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"You feel familiar... you remind me of my mom... are you her dad?"

"Yes... I'm your grandfather... but that makes me sound really old, so you can call me Bob. You and I have more in common than you know. I'll tell you more about that sometime. For now, I'll show you around, help you get settled in. I'll be right here when those feelings come over you that don't make sense."

"But what about my moms? I can't do this to them."

"You will learn to let them know you are still with them-- it takes time. You will have to be patient. I'll teach you, but I'm going to be honest. It's really frustrating at first and most of your attempts to connect won't work. As much as you want to take their pain away, you can't. They are on different journeys. You will always be connected though... and it will get stronger as all of you learn to drop the veil."

And with that, I exchanged the ability to touch, see, smell, taste and hear for a return trip to the classroom where I originated. I didn't complete the assignment I was sent on and now had to admit that once again I got stuck in the sticky web of sensitivity and not believing in myself and arrogance.

Damn it! I thought I'd learned those lessons the last time.

My mom has gotten pretty good at seeing the signs I send her...but my birthday and Mother's Day occurring in the same week just sucks. She had grand ideas of honoring me down by the river, everyone from all of her circles coming together to build little flower boats and send them off in a parade of flickering lights and prayers-- but it's just too much for her to manage and she finally let that idea float away like a balloon. I have tried to tell her that it's ok, I never liked that kind of attention anyway. I didn't even want to celebrate my 21st birthday last year- especially with Covid. I do love presents, but I guess that's pointless now. The important thing I keep telling her is to keep things small and simple-- order Thai food or pizza, ask my friends to tell funny stories (no sad or disturbing stories please!), make some art.

I wish I could have a do-over of Mother's Day last year. Having two moms is a bitch. I always felt torn and kind of sucked at thinking ahead about these things-- I was too wrapped up in my own drama-- and then I would tell myself it didn't matter that I forgot to write a card or get a gift or make a meal. I'm kicking my non-physical ass right now. What an idiot. Mom always told me that the only gift she wanted was my words-- they would be treasured forever but flowers just die. A few times I managed to pull this off, but once I went to college I forgot her birthday and Mother's Day... what was I thinking? She finally told me last year that it hurt her feelings that I honored my other mom on Mother's Day but blew off doing anything for her. Man, did I feel shitty about that! I wish I could tell her that I never meant to hurt her-- I just got tangled up in feeling inadequate and self-centered. I was too focused on avoiding pain and trying to get through school when all of my social connections were cut off.

My mom is struggling and all I can do is wrap my arms around her and tell her how sorry I am. She doesn't want advice. She wishes she had the energy to plant the garden she has dedicated to me.... but that's not happening right now. It can wait. I'm not going anywhere. I will help her through this time. Maybe we'll write a poem together. I'm grateful I was born to a mama who wanted me so fiercely, and I will do everything in my power to channel love to and through her. It's the least I can do.