August 26th
Dear Mom,
Dad agreed to meet me for lunch in Silverthorne.
I was so anxious before-hand that I actually considered calling Meg or Darrah. But I didn't want to hear advise. I just needed to get it over with.
I sat in the car for several minutes in the parking lot even though I could see him through the window, inside. He was sitting with his hands in his lap, staring at the water glass in front of him. Lost in thought.
He looked so forlorn on the faux leather of the booth, surrounded by families and couples. The only one in the restaurant without another person. In that moment I remembered when I was in my early teens and going through a difficult phase and he'd take me on a canoe ride around the reservoir, or rent me skis and take me to Steamboat to help me get my energy out in a constructive way.
I love him and the idea he may have come here angry at me for the stupid things I've done nearly broke my heart.
I climbed out of my car and he looked at me immediately, raising his hand in a slight wave. I waved back, locking Evans' door and pocketing her keys.
Entering the restaurant I could smell the tomato sauce and wonderful mix of Italian seasonings coming from the kitchen. I pointed to Dad when the hostess approached, and she let me by.
Dad started toward me before I got halfway across the room, and scooped me up in the tightest hug he's ever given me.
He was crying, Mom. And before I knew it I was crying too, and I think we stood there for a full minute just clinging to each other. All of the loneliness of being on the road by myself came to the surface and I could hardly force myself to let him go.
By the time we got back to the table the entire restaurant must have had interesting ideas about us. I didn't care.
He told me a bit about getting Donovan and Darrah's letter, and how it was such a relief to hear I was safe. He didn't say it in a way to make me feel guilty, but it still had that effect. He said that the family knew I was figuring things out, and I had a brief glimpse of insight that he's keep me safe from their censure.
I told him about getting sick in Tuscan and how Meg pushed her way into my trailer and my heart. How Tom holds her back from being as forceful as she naturally would be. I told him about Donovan and Darrah, and how their absolute love and acceptance has been an anchor for me in this experience.
We didn't talk about finances, or the technicalities of your death. Dad gave me an intense look several times, and I know he was struggling with trying not to say something he'd regret.
Maybe if I keep this day in my head and heart I will remember that he loves me. That regardless of our lack of communication in the day to day of our lives, he will always choose me. Maybe he's the only one who will choose me while knowing every little awful selfish thing I've done.
Before I left he walked me to my car and pulled me into another long hug. When he pulled away a tear was trailing down his cheek.
He said he felt a bit irresponsible letting me traipse all over the country, but that it has to be my choice to come home. That he understands why I left and he just hopes I find what I'm looking for.
I told him to call me if he ever feels overwhelmed or alone, and I'll answer. That I love him. That my leaving has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you and me.
I think he understands far more than I expected him to.
He watched as I drove away, and I've never struggled more with leaving him, even the first day I left for college.
But in spite of his tired eyes, and slightly hunched shoulders. In spite of the hair curling above his collar at an uncharacteristic length, he's okay. He's not good, but he's coping. That's as much as I can ask from him when my hair has grown out and I hardly wear makeup anymore. When I can barely find the energy to keep my eyes on the road and my mind on where to go next.
We're both doing the best we can, and I'm just so glad. So wistfully glad that for the first time since I left it feels like we're in this together.
We miss you.
We still love you.
Bo
I'd like to say I went on to check out some of the sights in Colorado, though I've seen many of them. But the whole meeting, while beautiful and positive left me drained.
I've only just now woken up from a deep sleep that lasted most of the afternoon. I feel well rested for the first time in weeks.
I hope I don't regret going on with this trip. Dad seemed to agree that it is necessary for me to figure out for myself what I need, and that coming home before I do that would not be for the best.
I'm going to put together a sandwich for supper and then read a book Dad brought me from home. It was my Mom's favorite. A classic about a young girl who decided to be a schoolteacher up in the mountains of Tennessee.
I've never read it all the way through, and I can't wait to find more of Mom in the pages.