I am lying here in a hotel bed in North Carolina, literally listening to the rain hit the roof overhead.
My son is in a bed next to me. He is 12 , going to be 13 in a few days. He lives here with his mom and stepdad. I'm listening to him breath and dreading fucking leaving and all that goes along with leaving .. It is so awful and brutal to leave that I tell myself to never look back when I drive off, but I always do.
And I always see him standing there crying, hugging his mom.
He's in middle school and he is a little short for his age because of some health problems. He told me that some kids have said some things about him being short and I feel like kicking all of their parent's asses. But I just tell him that those people don't matter and that he is smarter than all of them and that when he gets his next transplant that he will grow just like the doctor said.
Fuck! Life just sucks shit sometimes. That's why I hate the holidays. Someone's feelings always get hurt or you are happy to see people but you must always leave someone.
Alright, I just wanted to write this, I know there are many folks out there dealing with their holiday stuff, their family and personal issues. I guess that I am speaking to them. Hang in there, it's almost over.