I landed in Chicago in mid-May, and within the first hour home, my mom confessed to me that something was wrong, that she hadn’t been feeling well for a while. Needless to say, this put a large damper on coming home for the summer. I immediately let the anxiety take over, and started to imagine every possible bad scenario (the current case included). Being well versed in anxiety-talk, though, I attempted to shove them aside in the usual pile of what we like to call “what-if” thoughts.
For the next few weeks, I waited as (im)patiently as the rest of my family for answers. I preoccupied myself with a few things, primarily a search for a summer job and a search for a new car. I found both these things very trying, though. At my age, I still look to my parents for advice and help on things like these- the minor little steps in to adulthood. Unfortunately, my parents were (justifiably) preoccupied.
The day my mom went in to surgery, I took a babysitting job. My wonderful friend Anna joined me, in case I found myself overwhelmed or upset. I stayed in contact with my dad all day, but I had a lot of fun with the kids, and I went to the hospital to join my dad when the parents came home. That may have been the worst day for me in this whole ordeal- we didn’t have much information, and it ended up taking longer than expected. After we left, I had to pull over on my way home. I was exhausted- I woke up to a text message from my dad saying he was going back over to the hospital to stay with my mom timed about ten minutes after I got home. I fell asleep so quickly and deeply that I slept right through the ring. The next few days, I did more babysitting, joined my mom in the afternoons/evenings, and then crashed when I got home. I also received two wonderful job offers: the chance to nanny for a family down the street and the chance to work at a daycare, also located down the street.
These jobs wore me out quite a bit over the summer, but I really loved them. They also gave me something to do. There was one day (or two, or three…), though, where I got really exhausted and frustrated. I came home, and I told my mom that for just one night, I needed to go back to our regular roles- I needed a mommy. For me, this was one of the best nights all summer- my mom made me chicken noodle soup and hugged me, and it felt almost “normal” again.
Those of you who know our family know we’ve always been closer than average for a family with teenagers. I could have done a lot better though. In the last three weeks that I’ve been back at school, I’ve called my parents more times than I did last year in total. I think that’s been the greatest gift I’ve gotten out of this: I’ve gotten even closer to my parents than I had been before. It’s very difficult being so far away, especially when I was so close for the whole summer. Luckily, I’ve got an amazing support system here in California- my friends are some of the best people I’ve met, I’ve got a wonderful job at the Queer Resource Center here in Claremont with a fantastic boss who acts as therapist for all her staff, and, I think most importantly, I’ve got a really terrific boyfriend here with me who has been there for me every step of the way. And I’ve got my phone and my e-mail and this blog.
Looking back, I’m really glad none of those jobs in LA worked out this summer. I would have been miserable. Or I would have quit and come to Chicago anyways. But the way things worked out, I got to spend more time with my family and come to appreciate them all in ways I hadn’t been able to see before. What my parents and I have is a gift, and if I got anything out of this experience, it’s learning that. I joke about having gotten crappy DNA sometimes (the kind that, say, might give me a higher likelihood of getting cancer), but when you come right down to it, I was lucky to be born in to this family. I’m thankful every day for the time and closeness I get to share with my parents.
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