Dead, mon

Every once in awhile something reminds me that Drew still carries about the effects of my bumpy life. After the Lilac Festival, right towards the end, my energy ended. Not ran out, ended. We were on the way home, and it was as if my body just shut down. I felt heavy - not just tired, but truly weighted. I knew I was done for the day. I needed to get home and just sit still for awhile, and I did just that.

Drew went to play with friends and do stuff, but I just sat in the chair, waiting for the tiredness to pass. It showed no sign of relenting, so I finally hauled myself into the bedroom, stripped down and crawled beneath the covers. Drew wandered in somewhere around 9:30 and I heard him ask me a question, but I was too tired to open my eyes, so I ignored him and kept resting.

This morning we were chatting and he mentioned the incident, stating that the thought had crossed his mind that I was actually dead. I was startled that he would be concerned about it, but I can see its not easy for a 14 year old guy to deal with his mother's health issues. Of course he would not want to encounter that scenario, but I didn't know he had ever given it a thought.

Ah, there is still healing to be done. Not sure whether time will take care of that (eventually since he will move out at some point) or if there is something specific and practical that I can do to address his fears. For now, I note it and move on. If there is anything to be done, it will make itself known.