Quiet time

It's been such an incredibly quiet time in my life, with Vincent gone so long. He made my days too noisy, and too chaotic for a very long time. This silence has been quite a gift, even if it doesn't make up for what's been taken from me, by Vince's disease.

Haven't seen Vince in nearly a month; keep getting that feeling that we need time and quiet: Recovery Time.

Am sending him his Chess Magazine tomorrow, he'll like that.

I'm going to call his case worker at the hospital next month. She should have news about when he might come to trial by then.

Weekend ahead

Wrote a letter to my son today, to send along with his chess magazine. I included a photo of our dog (who really, really misses him!) and me and my boyfriend, whom Vincent has never met. I think Vince would like him, but he can't meet him right now. Possible visitors are restricted to just me - Vince's choice.

I may try to visit him this weekend, but don't know if I can get away. Possibly I can, Sunday. Vince isn't the most social person in the world these days, though he used to be very social, before the illness. But despite his remoteness, he always retains an interest in our dog, Nucci (Noochie) and asks about him. I think it because the little guy is so irresistably adorable.

Catching up

I meant to post everyday, and already I'm behind.

The things that are taking up my time are just the everyday things that those of us who are living, and functional, do:

Work.

Chores: Shopping for eggs. Relighting the pilot light that went out on the furnace when I finally notice the house is too cold. Walking the dog. Loading the dishwasher.

I think of Vince often when I do everyday things like that, because those are precisely the things that he can no longer do - not while he is hospitalized in a state facility because he is restricted, and not usually when he is out because he goes off his meds and the world seems to become a twisted, unsolvable puzzle to him. He’s navigating a maze without an end in sight; it hurts.

I’m going to send him his chess magazine tomorrow. Chess is a puzzle he can solve. It’s cake, to him.

Another beautiful day

Such a great, warm spring-like day today.

Thought of my son again, who is incarcerated, being brought to competence for trial, in a mental health facility. He has schizophrenia. It's been an incredible ten years since his diagnosis.

I think I will try to use this blog to record my feelings and thoughts about it as we move forward.

I miss him - a lot. He was a bright and fun child. It's been a bewildering experience, dealing with the changes in him. But he is my son and my only child, and I love him more than food, clothing, shelter, water, or air. I want all the best for him; I want him to feel joy again.

Spring Ahead

We've had a great day today; took a walk and thought a lot about my son, who is in a hospital, 75 miles away.

I thought of him, but could not make myself go to see him. I don't know if it is laziness, or cowardice, or wisdom that keeps me at home.