Foreclosure

Sorry, that was a long nap.

Today is the day I am helping my son’s dad get as much out of the house as possible. He has to be out by tomorrow. It has been taking an emotional toll on me since I heard the news. Him too. And our son.

This morning while driving back from getting boxes at Vons, the word “Foreclosure,” appeared in front of my eyes, and I had a thought…maybe the universe is trying to do us a favor.

I don’t believe in accidents. I don’t believe the words we humans use were chosen willy-nilly without regard for the emotional resonance they have in our bodies when we say them or hear them or think them. So I had to remind myself that the word for what is happening in our lives right now is not Forepunishment, or Forelosers, or Foremaliciousrevenge, or Forerippingyourheartout. The word is Foreclosure. For Closure.

Even though my son’s dad, my son and I don’t see it or recognize it or necessarily want it, I have decided that the universe knows (in It’s grand design for the earth, wind and stars of which we are all a part) that my family needs a little help to get the closure we need to move on with our lives.

Of course none of us knows what that means…what the future will or won’t bring our way.

I, honestly, have been taught a great lesson. Despite the fact that I have a job, and hot water and electricity, and gas to cook, I have learned that my son is profoundly better off with his dad. His father has been able to help him focus. He has given our son what I can’t or don’t know how to do. Once again all my overblown arrogance (that lives right in front of my eyes and, I have learned, completely skews real vision) about my skills and capacities in knowing what is best for my family has been deflated like a four-day-old kelly green and azure blue polka dotted birthday balloon.

In regards to my son, we watched him regress into some old behaviors this weekend. Thankfully not to the extent that he was engaging in those behaviors in the past, but he was definitely withdrawn, “tired,” and wanting to escape through social interactions with peers. His dad and I have been talking to him a lot about our fears, doubts and worries but, at the same time, trying to model for him that that emotional trio of lack and limitation is not going to prevent us from working through this…and coming out as better people on the other side.

As those very popular bumper stickers like to proclaim “Sh*&#t happens.” Once again, my family is learning that it’s not about what happens. It’s about who we choose to show up as in the midst of it.