It’s Monday. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, it’s Shawshank‘s birthday (but we’re not talking about it), and the country is burning.
I wasn’t very sleepy when I went upstairs last night, in fact I forced myself to go to bed. However, I must have been tired because I don’t remember much after I crawled under the blankets. It’s understandable. While it wasn’t a busy or physical weekend, it was emotionally exhausting. I’d prepared myself for Shawshank‘s departure on Friday morning. We’d said our goodbyes on Thursday night and there was no time to panic. There was only acceptance.
Cancelling Friday’s departure just gave me three days to worry about what’s happening. It’s given him three days to go into full-blown panic. He doesn’t know what’s going on, which he doesn’t handle under normal circumstances. We’ve assumed we’ll be saying goodbye tonight, but who knows? He calls, and I need to comfort him and soothe his fears that I’ll gladly forget about him after he’s gone.
Life outside the facility marches on.
His mother worries about quarantines and self-isolation. She hasn’t come right out and said it in so many words, but I think she’s worried Shawshank‘s arrival will damage their reputation in Tinytown, SK. Two years ago when he was originally arrested, she didn’t want him to mail things to them because the return address would stir up talk. “He needs to come up with a cover story,” she said recently. “We’re in a good place right now, we can’t afford to lose that.” Consequently, he feels like they don’t want him there.
My mother called last night. “Did you have your yard sale?” No. Again, no, I haven’t had the yard sale yet because I’m not leaving anytime soon. We talked about what we’re dealing with right now. He’s panicking, his mother’s panicking, and I’m stuck in the middle of it. The last thing I want to deal with is a fucking yard sale and haggling over the price of pieces of my life.
I told Mom about his mother’s worries about everything. Last night, his mother told me she’s “getting flack” from Shawshank‘s stepfather about the situation. “Are you sure that’s something you want to move into?” my mom asked.
Jesus, can’t anyone just say “I’m here for you no matter what?” and not make it feel like it’s conditional on me doing what they think is best?
