My (not so) Lost Boy

I remember thinking Zach would never make it on his own, when he turned tail and drove back to Georgia three years ago, after just living here in Orlando for three days.

Yet here we are, three years down the road of Life, and Zach is doing just fine, and still living in Georgia.



Zach has always marched to the beat of a different drum. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what kind of drum that is.

I know he's had some minor difficulties and bumps along the way, but has pretty much done every thing he said he was going to do when he left us here in Orlando...and never asked us for any help.

He didn't have a cell phone for the longest time; telling me he didn't need one. It about drove me nuts(ier) and finally bought him a pre paid used phone. I had Massey set it up and shipped it off to him. She and I alternated paying the $30 a month, just so we would have some way to get in touch with him...or (more importantly) vice-versa.

I bet he's lost or broke four different phones during the past three years. He's never asked for another one, instead he would just randomly text us from someones' phone and let us know he didn't have the phone anymore so we should cancel the pre pay.

He's a hard working kid, pursuing a career in the culinary field...and doing quite well.

He's not getting rich but he's getting by, and doing what he loves.

Every person should be so lucky...and know I am grateful to be one of them.

There is nothing worse than going into a job you hate, day after day after day. Week after week after week. It will literally suck the life out of you...hour by hour, week after week...and then some.

Then the months turn into years and before you know it, you're a jaded and resentful puppet, receiving your seemingly tiny penance for dancing for the boss man.

My husband had a job one time, many years ago. He worked it for well over ten years...and hated it every single day. The employer/owner berated him, called him names and treated everyone horribly. They would call Tim at three or four in the morning because they couldn't figure something out for themselves.

But it paid our bills so he went in. Every single day.

In over ten years, he never missed one day of work. That's the kind of man I was lucky enough to marry.

I'll never forget the time Tim told me, his boss told him (in a meeting) he was nothing more than garbage floating in the ocean.

For my husband...

the man I know and married thirty years ago, to put up with that kind of constant hostile bullying is a credit to his great character, as a father, husband and provider.


When we hit the skids (shortly thereafter) Tim went through another really hard time. It seemed no one was begging to hire peeps in their fifties, in the year 2008.

Then I lost my job, for giving my kid a scoop of ice cream at work without ringing it in...when they already knew my husband had been out of work for well over a year.

I'll never eat  LongHorn again. (but still love several peeps I know from there)

Then a year later our 401(k) was gone and we were broker than broke.

I spent years and years being pissed off at Tim's former employer and even more so with a sour business deal which went south right after that, leaving us with a $38,000 IRS debt we are still paying off...not to mention the restaurant which hung me out to dry after thirteen years of doing a pretty great job for them.

Here's the thing.

Be diligent in life, never give up, never give in and never let the enemy win...in any facet of your existence. Think like a boss.

Zach is doing exactly that. He didn't want to move to Orlando. He wanted to be on the opening team of a really cool and eclectic restaurant and do something to wow everybody, in the little ole town of Newnan, Georgia.

And he did.

We miss him, and hope he misses us too.

Whatever trail he follows is up to him.  I just hope it crosses ours from time to time.

I worry about all three of my kids, all the time. 

But Zach is a rebel.

And so was I.

It worries me when one of mine is a lot like me.

It may be a good thing, but who knows for sure?

Till next time...Cotton

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

Changes

Webster defines change as "a transformation or transition from one state, condition, or phase to another."

It also has about ten other definitions and feel like each and every one of them applies to my own life for the past decade.

I've gone and been through a lot of changes.

Some good and some bad.

Some happened because they were meant to happen and some happened for no apparent reason, seemingly out of the blue... totally blindsiding me.

But we're still here. (a good thing)

Tim lost his job, then I lost mine.

We almost lost everything, including our house and almost our marriage.

We kept both and thanks to hard work, determination, prayers and help from many are a few weeks away from having our house in Georgia paid off.

Seems things are changing yet again.




"A transformation or transition  from one state, condition, or phase to another."

Our oldest son, TJ ...who also lived here in Orlando with his fiancee, their two young girls and works for a Toyota dealership has accepted another position in Charlotte. They loaded up and moved yesterday.

The above photo includes lots of recent changes as well. On the right are my nephew and his wife, who are currently renting our house back in Georgia. And there's my Lost Boy (in the red shirt) standing next to TJ and Chels.

When my Lost Boy packed up and moved back to Georgia after only three days here in Orlando, was a pretty big blow for me.  No, it was crushing.

But I'll always go back and visit Zach...trust me I'd die of old age waiting for him to come visit me.


But that's okay too.

My sister still lives there with her husband and two of my nephews with their wives, along with about
a hundred of my closest friends from my twenty year run in Newnan. Not to mention we still own a house there.

I'm just more worried about getting up to Charlotte for a visit. Heck, they only lived thirty minutes away from me here in Orlando and only made the journey to their apartment a handful of times.

My only defense (and weak one at best) was that it's taken me well over six months to not feel like following Zach back home even if I had to hitch hike. I struggled to just maintain a job and our cracker box rental house.

So now once again, things have changed. TJ and Chels, along with our grand kids are in North Carolina while Tim and I remain in the state where all old people go to die.

I wish TJ nothing but success. Just like us he's having to change and adapt, but sometimes change is a good thing.

Change:  "To go from one phase to another, as the moon."




If I know TJ (and have since right after he turned two) he will go to the moon and beyond. The sky's not the limit but simply his launching pad.

Change is a good thing, whether you want it or not. It means you're at least moving and not stuck. May sometimes be two steps back before taking one step forward but at least your life is in motion.

Motion:

"The ability or power to move."

Totally cheesy and stolen when late night binge watching "Jane the Virgin" (btw a fantastic show) after work but says it all ...from a mother's perspective.

"My precious child...these are the things I hope for you and your life. May you be bold...may you be brave. May you be loving and joyful and kind. May you carry with you the vitality and spirit of the generations before you. Whatever you dream for your life, may you summon the strength to follow that dream. May you always let your faith be greater than your fear. May you never forget, through all of life's adventures, through every moment of every day...that I walk beside you, cheering you on. Hoping for you, praying for you, loving you. And may you one day love your own child as deeply as I love you, today and always."

As I finish this blog post, realize something really important.

Til next time, COTTON