Disjointed

I drove past Hadleys today on the way home from Palm Springs. We used to stop there on our way to Idylwild. It wasn't really on the way for us and actually required driving five miles beyond the actual turn off for Idylwild, but dried papya and salted cashews make for excellent snacking on our mountain cabin's deck. And the kitschyness made it irrestible.

I have travelled quite a bit since Dalton died. No place all that interesting. Just elsewhere. The busyness of travel and distraction of my travel buddies seems to dull the ache. Almost so that I can't recognize it. But like a migraine that returns once the medication wears off, the ache returns with a vengeance once I return to my home. And even then, it isn't until the quiet of the evening that I realize the pain is actually acute.

The moments build up throughout the day. Little things. I let them slide. On their own they are but fond memories or subtle regrets. Today for example, I was pouring my coffee while everyone else slept and I recalled Dalton and I sitting at our kitchen table enjoying coffee as the sun came up. Refilling my gas tank I realized that Dalton would never let me pump my own gas. Scurrying around the house preparing to check out I remembering how effieciently we directed the clean up of retreat centers following the Alpha weekend away. Walking down the hall of the new science building at Mt. Sac, I knew that Dalton would have been proud of me going to class regardless of the fact that I was late. Then I picked up Iain and the "migraine" exploded. It had been hanging out in the background, but Iain's first painting put me over the edge. It was his first painting and Dalton didn't get to see it.

It's funny because I wanted to write all day but seem to be suffering from some block or distration. In rereading this, I proably shouldn't post it, but if this blog is my journal, then this is an interesting study on how disjointed I am right now.

I hope to write more regularly now that things are setling down.

We'll see.