I’ve gone quiet, I know. At least here. In real life I have been extraordinarily busy, but I think about this blog often. I miss taking the time to write and correspond with my fellow bloggers, readers and thinkers.
Today’s post signals a return, mark my words! A bit of an update:
My week-long intensive starts next week! I go to Schenectady NY for the kick-off Proseminar, which will mark the beginning of a part-time (3 years) MSc program in Bioethics. It’s a distance program with minimal travel, so it’s hopefully going to be manageable.
As I’ve been doing the required readings I think a lot about how much I would have gained from the texts while Owen was alive. I’m really looking forward to the learning and dialogue, and reporting back here from time to time.
You may know I have been self-employed as a web developer for a few years now. I have finally decided: onwards and upwards–I hired our second full-time employee (me being the first)! Low to the Ground Consulting Inc. is better positioned now to compete and grow and become a thriving enterprise that can one day operate without me doing everything. The exciting thing is we have 2 big health-care related contracts with organizations I know very well – Owen was a patient of both. I love that my personal and professional work are merging.
It was a challenging year, supporting Angus in his transition to public school. He’d spent his entire schooling (until last year) in the Waldorf school system, joining his neighbourhood peers for grade 7 at our local public middle school. Great decision, lots of adjustment. He pulled it all together in the end and I’m so proud that he’s navigating things so well.
In other news, Angus is now officially taller than me.
My sweet boy. I miss him more than ever. I freaked out a bit recently when I realized that Owen would have been 15 years old this summer. (I know it’s not rational, but I feel extra-cheated–the markers for the would-have-beens keep coming and going yet the actual thing never happens.)
I’ve been avoiding the sadness abyss for a few weeks. It shows itself at night mostly, at which point I have to physically roll over to get away from it and try to prevent it from ruining my sleep yet again.
I wonder in those moments, am I just taking a hard-earned break from grief or am I suppressing something that will catch up with me at a time of its own choosing, which is almost always rather inconvenient and upsetting?