Back To 'Normal' Crazy

I'm beginning to feel more like my normal crazy self again, which I consider a good thing.

I think this picture was taken about four years ago when we came down to Orlando for Thanksgiving at my brother's house.

The next year gave me another photo opp so I took that one as well... had to beg Massey to take this.

I remember my sister telling me about a friend of hers who commented how funny she though it was. I should have asked for her address and sent her a Thank You note. My kids roll their eyes at me a lot, which I also consider a compliment. They refuse to admit I am funny. Crazy, yes, funny, no.

That's okay too, at least I make myself laugh. Being sad drains me. With that being said, I've felt drained for a couple of weeks now.

Losing a pup is the only bad part of having one. As much as we made fun of Charlie, we loved the fat little doofus even more. He came to stay with us for two weeks and ended up staying the rest of his almost thirteen year life. I'm surprised he even knew his real name. Let's see, we called him 'Switzerland' because he was neutral and got along with both our other dogs. We also called him 'Chally TooPhat' (no explanation needed) and lovingly called him 'Sir Charles' because certainly thought he was royalty. As the days go by, we have learned to deal with his loss but still miss the little dummy.

As the weeks have gone by, I have also really been missing my Lost Boy. I am a worrier by Mother nature...pun intended.

 He hasn't called me once since Christmas and my feelings are hurt. He hasn't returned any of my phone calls although his phone was cut off for some time. I'm okay living apart from my kids as long as they all check in with me from time to time. I really got my feelings hurt at Christmas when he was less than cheerful when we all got together on Christmas Day. He had gone out the night before with some friends and obviously had a little too much fun, and that was fine with me but for Pete's sake, shake it off like a big boy. Massey had to force him to open his presents and he just ripped every box open and tossed whatever was in it to the side and ripped open the next one, never commenting on a single present. That really hurt my feelings and unfortunately voiced those feelings to him in a sarcastic way.

Here's the thing. I had really put a lot of thought and money into his gifts and told him as much...and then some.

That didn't go over well with him and I knew it wouldn't...shouldn't have done it, but the proverbial cat was out of the bag and wasn't any thing I could do about it then . We didn't speak to each other the rest of the day, or before we left for Orlando the next morning.

I sent him a text the next afternoon, apologized for blowing up at him but reiterated how my feelings had been hurt.

Crickets. That's all I heard from him.

Then more crickets.

I've heard nothing but crickets for well over a month now. My hurt turned into worry, so did what any desperate momma would do. I transferred thirty bucks into his bank account. That got me his one and only response since Christmas Day.

"You don't need to do that anymore, I have over a thousand dollars saved up."


            Here's the other thing. He may be half "Cotton" but is a whole lotta "Leach."

Once we get a bee in our bonnet or a bug up our keister..the stubborn side of the Leach in us rears (pun again) its ugly head. We don't back down and we don't give in and we rarely give up.

All good qualities to have unless you are in a squabble with one of us.

I let three weeks go by, all the while constantly trolling his social media which were all totally silent and unused. If you know me at all, you know silence isn't in my forte'...unless I'm mad.

By this point, the mad was long gone and replaced by constant worry.

Was he okay?
Was his job still going okay?
Has something happened?
Does he need anything?
Was he still living in the same place?

I think about him at least twenty times a day. I try calling at least once a day but got tired of hearing "The person you have reached has not set up a voicemail..."

Then his cell phone (our only lifeline) got cut off. I let that worry me for another week then asked Massey to go on line with my bank card and pay the bill.

Crickets were still the only thing I heard even though his cell was cut back on.

Massey sent me a text at work the other night. "He's alive."

Followed by another text to say he had posted on some outlet (Snap/Insta/Sump'n or other) and had commented to ask if he was okay?

Zach:

"yes"

She typed something back to him but never got another response.

Great, guess he's mad at her too now.

Guilty by association I assumed.

Tim has even started to come home from work at night, and if I happen to be there always asks if I have heard from Zach?

Same answer every time...Nope!

Tim's tried calling him a couple of times lately but guess association runs deep and wide with my stubborn Lost Boy.


So what's a momma to do now?

Tim got home from work tonight and said he had spoken with our oldest , TJ this afternoon. We talked about that for a few minutes and once again Tim asked if I had heard from Zach.

Once again..."Nope."

Tim said, it's that Leach side in him.

I rolled my eyes but pretty much agree with him. He had some work to do on his computer and I had some to do on mine. He came into the bedroom and asked what I was doing? I told him I was doing what I always do when bothered by something. I was blogging about it.

Here's the third (and only lucky) thing.

Zach doesn't read my blog. Of course neither does Tim or even TJ. Massey just does when the mood strikes her.

The Leach family crest hangs framed over my computer. My Aunt Tillie did a watercolor of it years ago as a present.

I looked up what 'Finis Coronat Opus' meant.

I was not surprised.

Definition of finis coronat opus. : the end crowns the work : the goal gives value to the labor that produced it.

Tim tells me I worry too much, and do. I also (think I) know everything will be okay. I'm not going to bother Zach again.

When he wants to get in touch with me he will. If he needs something, knows all he has to do is ask.

He was very close to Sir Charles so know he is grieving Chuck's loss as well, from over four hundred miles away.

I mailed Zach, Charlie's collar and dog tags. No note. They should have gotten there a couple of days ago.

 I knew Zach would love to have them and ole Chas would love for him to have them.


I know Zach loves me, just like he knows I love him.

Sometimes it is just hard to say "I love you" but sometimes it is a very necessary thing to hear.

This boy.
My boy.
Our boy.

My eclectic Lost Boy...

I feel more lost without having contact with him.


But he's a man now, finding his own way in life and I need to respect that, even if it hurts. I think the above is my favorite picture of us together. He's looking my way instead of actually looking at me... but seems happy to be doing it.

That's all I want , for him to be happy.

That's all I want for all three of my kiddos. I worry about all three of them and for some selfish reason want all three of them to worry about me.

I'm far from winning Mother of The Year but have never been arrested by social services so I'm gonna call it a win either way.

The only thing I want at this point in my life is to know they are all okay...with or without me.



Being a mother is hard.

Letting your kids go is even harder.


Till next time...COTTON