The first anniversary of your leaving

I slept in, today. I'll be thinking of you constantly but not particularly sorrowfully, perhaps because other cares have intruded - life actually DOESN'T stop for our personal tragedies - but mostly because I'm choosing to feel numb, like I did a year ago. I'm in Washington at Larissa's home, but I had planned to be in Salt Lake, putting a fresh pile of snapdragons on your still unmarked grave. I'll be walking/sitting there in my mind today. I'm sure Livvie will come by. We know you're not there, but we're still physical beings and places matter to us. Most likely I will feel your large, warm presence from time to time throughout the day.

It was bright and sunny here yesterday, but today it is cloudy and grey, just like last year. I'm not sitting beside you, holding your hand, trying to figure out how to fix this hurt and knowing I cannot. A sweet young couple came by to offer the Sacrament to us and it was wonderful to share that sacred time with you, even though you couldn't partake. You had no need of purification, ritual or otherwise, by then. I still expected you to be around a while longer, especially when the hospice coordinator came by to discuss moving you the next day, but it wasn't what you wanted. The last thing I asked you was, "Are you bored, son?" and you whispered, "Yes!" I knew then that you would need to go. We ADHD types simply can't do NOTHING, that would be a living hell, and you needed no part of it.

So we let you go. We have our own journeys to complete. May they pass swiftly.