forest walk

I just talked to Gabriel for the first time since dropping him off at college on Tuesday. What had orientation been like?

Well, he said, in the first couple of days he tried to keep it all trees, no forest. 

He was referencing a conversation we had shortly before we said goodbye, sitting on a shady bench outside the dining commons. It was all so strange: to not go home together after our nice day at Swarthmore College, to have a slew of small talky conversations with strangers, some of whom may prove to be lifelong friends, to be bright and cheerful while teetering on the edge of an irrevocable change. To participate in icebreakers! Given the glorious sylvan setting, the tree-forest thing came readily. Maybe just stick to the trees. One thing at a time. Maybe, for now, don't dwell too much on the forest. 

So that's what he'd done. Lots of new people, new places, activities, a trip to Target, class registration. Aspen, birch, oak, oak, oak.

That's why I'd waited. I knew he had to be there all the way at first, and not feel the tug of home. But by yesterday afternoon I could barely stand it, and decided that it was okay to consider my own needs too so asked if we could talk. Sure, he responded. 

There have been a lot of trees in my life over the past four days. Today, for example, I walked to barre class, stopped for produce at the market, regretted the cantalope the entire walk home, made chocolate chip pancakes for me and Beatrice, facetimed Frances for assistance in procuring all the forgotten items she wanted me to mail to her at school, picked up my mom's dog and brought him here for the weekend while she is away, packed up and addressed a box of Frances items and a smaller one of Gabriel items, waited in a long line at the post office balancing said items and hoping the postal worker would look down at my packages and say "Gee, Princeton and Swarthmore! Are these addressed to your brilliant kids? You must be such a great mom - " (she did not), drove to the mall to return my old laptop to the Apple store, drove to Whole Foods to return Beatrice's too-small Adidas, drove downtown to pick up Beatrice and Willy at the new Nori Taco place, brought them home, pet the dogs, and sat down to write. 

Gabriel called while I was at the mall. I found a beige plastic couch outside a quiet department store. My entire nervous system reset.

After I'd heard all about everything, I told him I wasn't worried about him. He's got this. And I wasn't worried about Swarthmore. It's terrific! I just needed to hear his voice, all the same. 

Is it because I miss him? I mean sure, I do. But by now I'm used to him splitting for long stretches, and often in places where he isn't easy to reach. He's been at camp in the summers, spent a month in the wilds of Wyoming, hiked the Appalachian Trail, and backpacked in Oregon for two weeks earlier this month. But those were all adventures. This is the next chapter of his life.

When you love someone it is trees and forest. You have no choice. The forest is breathing, alive, everywhere. It holds a thousand histories. The story of my own beginnings at Swarthmore, of formative memories all over campus, sweeping romantic love and deep friendship, of the family I made with Mike, of Gabriel's surprisingly quick and peaceful birth, his sweet contemplative nature that shone so bright even as a baby alongside his love of motion and stories and music. Of everything we've been through over the past eighteen years. So much. Of long conversations and silliness and Gabriel making me laugh so hard I cry or pee or both. 

Every time the sunlight moves the temperature shift tells my body this will never be the same. 

And so I find I am in a forest of grief. The trees are all pretty nice. I love trees! But an insistent heavy part of me wants to stop all this busy back to school tree work and curl up in the dark coolness of the forest floor instead, where I will let the ragged weight of my grief anchor me in stillness among the moss and beetles and leaf litter. Just for awhile. 

Even the most ideal, happy change can really knock a person off her feet.