Scene 12: I Just Can't

Setting: the Mountains near Jasper, possibly represented by a slide and sound effects.

Shawn:

I can usually cheer myself up if I want to. If things aren't going my way, I’ll just give myself a distraction. It doesn't really matter what it is. It could be a movie, dinner out, a phone call with a friend, or a trip somewhere.

I remember when we decided Mom need a trip somewhere.

It seemed like she was in a rut. No matter how nice and comfortable things were at home, she was sad. She was distant. She wasn't herself.

Our family loved the mountains. There was a time when we went every year, and it was always at the right time, and the way I remember it, we all felt better after a nice long trip.

So we decided to take her to Jasper.

The weather was perfect. It was a pleasant drive on a warm, late summer day. I’m sure we listened to oldies on the drive out there, and Mom was quiet as usual. I’m sure she slept most of the time.

It always seems like it shouldn't take that long to get out to the mountains, but it was a pretty long drive. We didn't get started out that day until later than usual. When Mom was feeling good, she was like a drill sergeant, and she would've had us out on the road just after 6:00 am.

But she wasn't feeling good.

It was already mid-afternoon when we got there, so we drove out to one of the lakes to take in the scenery. I remember going for a nice walk on a path that followed the lake, and it ended up going pretty high to a lookout point where everything looked like a painting. The sun was starting to almost set, so we decided to head back. Mom looked like she was feeling pretty peaceful, so I knew the magic of the mountains was working on her.

We had a nice dinner somewhere not too far from the lake and started to head to our room for the night. There was just enough light left for us to watch the fish jump out of the water. There was a special feeling to the evening. I noticed a smile on my Mom’s face.

Success.

When Mom felt good, I felt good.

We made our way back to our room, and I noticed Mom’s smile slowly fade. That’s okay, she’s not a clown, and I don’t need a smile painted on her all the time. I figured she was still feeling better, just on the inside.

And then the morning came.

She looked tired, distant, not herself. I couldn't believe it.

I had to say something.

“Mom, I don’t understand. Don’t you remember yesterday? We had a great walk down by the lake, we took some pictures, and we even saw the fish jumping out of the water. Didn't that make you feel good? Wasn't it nice to be there?"

"Why can’t you just be happy?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I just can't.”

…

I didn't understand. I thought the mission had been accomplished. How could she go back to feeling sad so quickly? Why couldn't she just hold onto that feeling and ride it out until she felt better?

Because she just… couldn't.

Have you ever had a delayed epiphany?

It took me 15 years to understand what someone means when they say they just can’t feel better. It’s so much easier for someone like me to just not get it, and just think that everyone can give their head a shake… Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Snap out of it! What is this accomplishing? Don’t you want your life back? Don’t you want to do something? Don’t you want to feel something else? Why would you stay this way when you know all the people around you love you so much and support you? If not for yourself, why won’t you try for us? We want you back, don’t you understand that?

Why won’t you try?

“Because I just can’t.”

If I could have that moment back. But I just can’t.

I love you, Mom. I’m sorry you feel this way. Just know you are loved, that’s all I want to say.

I’m letting you go, for both of us.

I’m letting you go.