... the Twilight Zone.
My mom brought Corey over to collect some things today. Pieces of his heart and pieces of mine were on the floor. He did not ask to come home. If he had I don't know what I could have said or done.
Instead, I handed him some toiletries and freshly laundered clothes. I gave my mom some cash to offset her expenses. Corey says he will be following up at Job Corps. By Tuesday we should have a sense of the next step.
Mad was in bed for her nap, but not sleeping when they arrived, so Tom brought her down for Grammy and especially for Brother. It's hard to say for sure if she refused to go near him at first only out of the fickleness of a two year old's heart. I rather doubt it. Corey clearly did, too. Mad has since birth had what we've called her pre-approved list. It's four people long, and Corey has always been able to be close to her. She did warm up as he was walking away, trying to keep the tears in his eyes.
When we went through a similar experience last year, it was right before Tom and I found out we did not have a viable pregnancy. Corey's meltdown, in comparison to last week, was somewhat milder. And this time we are not dealing with a chemical pregnancy; we are all simply sick with another (freaking!) nasty cold. So the accompanying but unrelated pain, if you will, is significantly less, but the problem with Corey is larger. I'm not asking for trade-offs or any other type of wishful thinking beyond wishing Corey could somehow undo what he's done. It's just that my mind sees these odd connections. I see that I'm rambling.
As you may or may not recall, I am not a religious or praying sort of person. For a long time I called myself "spiritual" because it eased the minds of others more than anything else I could offer. I'm not entirely sure I'm spiritual either. I looked into a Unitarian Universalist church up here and was interested in everything but the spiritual aspects. I mention this because I am not asking for prayers, but I could sure use something...