Tuesday, November 04, 2003

Karen here. Jon has been trying to get me to clean Kyle's room. I couldn't bring myself to do it before today. I went through his clothes and smelled them. It made me cry. He even smells sweet. I hung up his clothes and washed some. His box on the deck hasn't been touched. Then I started to go through the huge box of pictures and drawings that were plastered on his wall in our old house. There was a postcard that Kyle had gotten from his Uncle Mark. It was of a Van Gogh painting of a skull with a cigarette in it. It is kind of strange that he had saved it. And I found it rather amusing since Van Gogh was bipolar. I am going through the pictures and putting them in a drawer. The pictures are all contrasts like his life. He has running quotes and bible quotes. Then he has some bizarre quotes that make no sense at all. I am trying to make it look welcoming for when he comes home, if he comes home.

Our eight year old daughter drew a picture of Ryan and wrote Saint Ryan at the top. She told me it seems like he is dead because we don't know where he is most of the time. I have the same dream every night where the police come and get him and take him away in handcuffs.

My friend called and was complaining because her sons were fighting. They are 17 and 19. I thought that was strange and then I thought maybe it is strange because our boys don't fight and haven't fought for so long. Our youngest son was so proud when his oldest brother made fraternity president and likewise his brother has been proud of him. I can't really remember when any of them last fought.

I really hope Kyle checks in soon. He came over on Halloween and took a shower. His brother let him in because I was at work. I would have loved to see him and hugged him. He was wearing a big coat.

I'm glad I cleaned his room. It is full of creative energy underneath all the debris.

Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home