The Long Days
…of looking for Owen are over. They’ve been over for about nine and a half months now…or yesterday, depending on where my mind wanders. Those were four of the longest days of my life. None since have seemed short. The end of our search for Owen was not pretty. The end of life as we knew it, was the beginning of the lives left to live. Mine, and everyone who knew and loved him. I often wonder how many of Owen’s days seemed endless, and for what reasons.
Today was a long day at work - a very long day. I found myself immersed in information, ideas, and hope for a brighter, or maybe just a different, future. Then, suddenly, I was thrust backwards, with the wave of someone’s hand. A dismissal. And, I remembered how insignificant all of it can seem.
I went back to my office, answered a few emails, made two phone calls, picked myself up, and drove to a restaurant for dinner with my coworkers. I don’t usually socialize with people from work. By the nature of my job, I keep some distance. It serves all of us, I believe.
I’m thankful I didn’t keep any distance from my family - I had no need, quite the opposite, actually. The closer, the better. On the occasions when one of them waved me off due to an impulsive reaction to something I said, I fought hard to get back into their good graces. We found ways to rephrase earlier statements; to come to new agreements on how and what we meant, but went left unheard; and to allow each other the time, the forum, and the opportunity to understand each other. There’s nothing like family, even in the hard times.
I’m glad today is almost over. I have a long day at work tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to my silence. I’m looking forward to listening, observing, and taking away what I can to rephrase my contribution.
As I drove over the Cotati Grade tonight on my way home, I looked out over the valley that is Petaluma. I was overwhelmed with loss. The loss of Owen, the loss of our family as it once was, and the loss of my voice. I have never felt so silenced. Hush, little baby don’t you cry…
Sweet dreams, Straight Arrow.
Song for the night: The Long Day is Over, Norah Jones
http://youtube.com/watch?v=h_jsbJMzvqA
emmitt-owen-riley
linda-siniard
Work. It’s amazing how unimportant it can seem, and amazing that it ever seemed important. But it’s part of you, and it will be important again. For now - there’s a kind of distance, a remote observation of events and people which can serve you extremely well.
Experience makes you more tolerant and you learn to understand more about the problems that go down behind everyone’s lives. Those problems may not be as bad as yours, of course, but there’s plenty of them around, just the same. And through watching more and speaking less, gradually it becomes clearer - there’s so much said in meetings and interactions that is never really said at all.
Perhaps nothing is really as cut and dried as once it seemed. There’s much more to feel about people than there ever is to measure.