Visiting your grave

I stopped by to visit you on my way out of Salt Lake this morning. The only flower I could afford was an orange Day Lily blossom from outside your dad's apartment. I had put it there when Livvie & I went by last night. It was already wilted but I repositioned it defiantly, hoping the sprinklers would revive it a little.

Then I sat in my little blue car and cried for you. For the thousandth time I longed to change places with you; surely your beautiful, funny presence would serve this world more effectively than my failing grace? But that is not our call, so we move on; me back to an increasingly hum-drum life in Oregon and you to whatever tasks await the Blessed.

I love you, not-so-baby boy.

Another month goes by

I keep thinking the grieving is over; then I start to miss the grieving itself! Tonight I was putting some family photos in a new frame because the old, dearly beloved one had fallen apart. I broke one of the pieces of glass and was in tears instantly. I NEEDED to get that one little job done so I could hang your picture back on the wall of our home.

Every time I think I've left you behind I find myself starting all over again at stage 1: Denial. Oh, Gingle, if you only knew; but you probably do. I miss you and am SOOO proud of you for your progress to a life I can still only dream about. I will make it to you; I PROMISE!

Black ribbons

Pink ribbons make me sad. I know I could wear one for 'Rissa's victory over Hodgkins Lymphoma, but what do I wear for George? Everybody gets so all-fired-up about beating cancer or knowing someone who did. Some of us don't feel so lucky. Some of us have to go on empty-handed, with nothing but fading memories of lives NOT lived; at least, not lived long enough.

Survivor's guilt, loss, anger, all those things slow me down. People have told me how brave I am and how well I am handling this.

They have no idea!

I miss your voice

Just minding my own business, working away, when suddenly I find myself craving the sound of your voice. We have no recordings; no home movies; nothing but flat paper photographs. Didn't figure we would ever need them because you would always be there. Why, oh WHY didn't we take the time/effort to preserve more of you for ourselves? What if I wake up one day and don't remember the soft sound of the gentle sibilance you inherited from your father? How can we recapture what is lost? How do we move on without tearing ourselves apart.

I know I will see you again, but I want you back, NOW.

Grief and Love

I read this in Desert News online today:

"Grief is love's shadow. If you are going to love, you have to put up with grief sooner or later, but grief intensifies love. Grief drives love into the deeper parts of your soul and being." S.Michael Wilcox

Amen, Bro. Wilcox!

A friend of mine has joined you

A friend of mine, Wiremu Peeni, joined you in Heaven last week. I knew him in High School & met him again for the first time since then when I came to Salt Lake for your surgery, two years ago. I had SUCH a crush on him in school but he never knew. Thought I was a terrible snob because of that darn shyness I passed on to you. We sang in the choir together and shared the stage in a couple of school musicals. He went on to become a music teacher in Alaska, then moved to Salt Lake a few years back. He was living in St. George when he died, trying to save the money to go home to Aotearoa. If you meet him, give him my love. He was a Very Good Man, indeed. Wish I could be there; it's getting to be a fun place!

Another week away from you

I don't know what to write anymore. That makes me sad. Perhaps there are no more words, just feelings. Perhaps I'm healing. Mostly I'm just living, trying to find sufficient joy in life on earth to warrant a place at your side when it is done. Can't wait to meet your baby nephew/niece. Go by and warn him/her about us, will you? :-)

Mummy