I don't think I can be repaired, just learn to live with the broken parts.
Today I thought It would be the day that I didn't make it in to school.
I was really having a hard time imagining going on with the day. It all seemed pointless.
But, I made myself get dressed, eat some cottage cheese, drink some tea, and I drove to work, crying all the way.
I got in the building and was met by the needs of the day, by my drive to make it all work, and I made it through.
In the afternoon I went to interviews for a migrant advocate position. On the interview team was a teacher that got to know Lev well in six grade when Lev befriended a new immigrant, Noe, and Lev's Spanish teacher from last year who seemed to really appreciate him. I just had to close off the grieving part of me and get through it. I did, and I survived. I'm not sure it's any harder at the end of the day if I close myself off and do my job or if I am at home reflecting, moping, crying. It is always right there, just under the surface, a constant knowledge that the world is not fair and my life as I knew it has been destroyed.
But, then good things happen, like a second grader super excited to see me, or a text from Jaal, and it seems manageable for a little bit.
Jaal is coming home this weekend. I can't wait to see him. It feels magical, that he can go away and still be calling, texting, and then come and visit. It is wonderful. It is what I want most with Lev, for him to be able to come back. I still have trouble understanding the enormity of forever. But Jaal I can see and I'm thankful for that. I miss him, too, but we can talk. I bought him some of his favorite things at the store for this weekend and to bring back to school. I can buy them, and he will come back and eat them. It's all I want, to be able to buy food and have my kids eat it. It never seemed like too much to ask for.
Rebecca
