July 22nd
July 22nd
Dear Mom,
The state line between Wyoming and Montana is so clearly delineated it's a little funny. Both are beautiful.I stayed one night in West Yellowstone, and they have a historic theater there. I say historic. It was founded in the 1960's. It's called the Playmill Theatre, and they were performing a fun show about seven woodsmen who capture the women of a nearby town because they think that's the way to get wives. It was hilarious.
The theater was small enough everyone in the audience could see the actor's expressions, and they did a good job.
I plan on taking a two hour river trip either tomorrow or the next day. Montana is so full of history. Especially Native American history. I've been enjoying learning so much of the heritage of the area.
I'm also looking forward to maybe seeing Bozeman and the dinosaur fossils. Especially Big Al. He's one of the most complete T-Rex's they've ever found.
Of course even the most magnificent dinosaur won't have the friendly feeling of the Mammoth bones in Vernal Utah. I always loved the story you told me about the man who was digging a well and found the giant bones of a prehistoric elephant. I feel a connection to that mammoth, somehow. Maybe because we both come from the same area of the country.
I called Dad today. It took every ounce of control I had to dial the number and wait for him to pick up.
He sounded tired, maybe even a little defeated. He asked me where I was, and didn't push any further when I told him Montana.
I tried to talk to him more about the theater and the play, but he was distant and I can't blame him. He's angry at me for leaving.
I'm a little angry at me for leaving too, but more angry at him for not communicating with me. It would hurt less for him to yell at me a little than this ongoing silence of disapproval.
He did tell me he would wait for me to come back to decide what to do with your ashes.
The thought that you're ashes now actually makes me want to vomit. Worse than the time the rotten egg exploded in the kitchen, worse than when you tried to cook beef tongue.
All the nausea in the world won't change the fact though. You're gone, and the world has one less light in it.
I asked Dad how he was doing, and he said he was “okay”. It took me back to the panic attacks I used to have, and how he'd say I'd be okay. To just breath. How he'd make sure I had my inhaler and held me close till I was able to control the breath in and out of my lungs. It makes me wonder if I'd stayed if he'd be holding me tight right now while the tears course down both our cheeks. Instead the paper of this letter is damp and the pen keeps tearing small holes in it. Neither of us is doing well without you.
You were the lynch pin in a family that hardly exists without you. Maybe love isn't enough to hold us together without your glue. Maybe our intrinsic faults will be enough to drive us apart in a world where we have so little in common.
Maybe that's all that's to be expected. Parents who lose children often turn away from each other. Marriages and relationships end. I wouldn't choose to lose Dad, but maybe he's choosing to lose me.
That would break your heart just like it's breaking mine. If there were two people I knew would never give up on me it would be you and Dad.
Now it would only be you.
I love you.
Bo
I picked up a stuffed bear in Cody, and I've named it Kee. He is very soft, and somehow it's comforting to have something to hold other than the hexaflexagon from Jasper. I've successfully left it in the box for a week now, and Kee makes a good replacement.
I am exhausted again tonight. I didn't even do much other than the show and dinner at an outdoor cafe.
The sunset took me by surprise. Apparently there's a fire to the west of Yellowstone. Not enormous, but big enough to cause huge clouds of smoke, and one of the most beautiful sunsets I've seen in my life.
My heart ached with the beauty. It lasted a few bare moments before the sun slipped below the horizon and it was over. Dusk fell and I sipped my tea while the stars came out.
I got a text from Donovan tonight, asking if I was safe and letting me know he'd heard from Dad.
Donovan and Darrah were always closer to Mom, but I imagine they're trying to be there for Dad now.
He told me Dad seemed to be doing pretty well, all things considered, but that he was worried about me. It was nice to hear, though I'm not sure whether to believe him or not. Him and Darrah would both be saddened by Dad and I being estranged. They would do anything to keep that from happening for Mom's sake.
I keep closing my eyes, seeing the look in Darrah's eyes when she thought I wasn't looking. The questioning look Donovan gave me when he walked me out to my trailer.
Even a few fever memories of Meg when I was sick, trying to pry answers out of me while she made sure I got better.
I suppose there are people in this world who've invested in the continuance of my life on this earth. I should respect that at least.
I will try. I will try to be healthy. I will try to eat well. I will try to see the good in people, and hope for better. I hope you can do the same.