I am sitting here trying to work. It ain't workin'
This next weekend I will be in Camp Nelson. I will be saying goodbye.
I don't want to.
I have found a nice, dry place to ignore the pain and the loneliness. I go to work, I talk to my daughter, I sing, I take care of my dogs and my husband. I have a "usual" life.
I can pretend that Dan is just gone for awhile. I don't actually say that to myself. I know the thought is silly. I know he isn't in his truck where there is no cell phone service. But I sorta, kinda pretend that is the case. I just don't let my brain say it.
It is nice and dry here. There is nothing spectacular to tell Dan, nothing out of the ordinary to share with him. So I don't need to call. I don't need to hear his voice. I don't have to think about it. I don't have to feel anything.
Somehow I think that arriving at Camp Nelson will bring rain. Big, huge drops of rain to my dry place. I think I will have to listen to the voice in my head that says "you CAN'T call, you CAN'T hear his voice."
And I don't want to go there.
I want to go to Camp Nelson and see him there. I want to know that this was all a big joke of some kind. I want to know that he is still part of this planet in a very concrete way.
This is gonna be very, very hard.