Running

Colby began running away when he was 13. At first he'd stuff pillows and blankets under the covers of his bed to make it look as if he was there, safe, sleeping. At first he'd just slip out into the back yard, walk around the block, hang in the school playground across the street.

Later, he didn't bother with the pillows or blankets; he'd just gather his backpack and skateboard and go. As time went by, he strayed farther and farther away from home and for longer and longer periods.

I wish I could run away.

Until Colby passed, I never understood his compulsion to run, to be out on the street. But I do now. Sometimes life is so overwhelming; simple, normal responsibilities so compressing; that it seems like the only answer is to run. I've thought about it. I've thought about gathering the dog and the cat and getting into my truck and driving. Driving to a destination unknown. Abandon everything. Leave this overwhelming life behind. Free myself from the horror I wake up to every morning.

Then I realize I can't. No matter where I go, my son will still not be there. No matter what I do, my son will still be gone. But, I can do some things to make my life easier:
1. say no to what I can't do
2. help others
3. honor Colby's memory
4. realize I do not have to get everything done today
5. cry when I need to
6. allow my friends to help me
7. actually do all of the above

Today I will do my best to follow those guidelines. If I do that today and tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, then one day I know life will not be quite so hard.