Some days I have to paddle really hard and some days I just float. These are tough days. I feel like I have rebounded back to the time just after your accident again. I have a hard time starting the day. It is tough to stay focused. It is not just me, your sister and dad are feeling the same way.
We want to do something for you. Emotions and actions that used to be focused in your direction have no where to go it seems. I know that other parents have learned to channel those emotions and actions into different worthwhile efforts. I haven’t gotten there yet. I still feel like I have been punished. We are sentenced to have to live without you. Forced into retirement from being your parent.
Yes, in fits and starts, I have been able to do some things. I survey the past year and am amazed at what has been achieved. Your dad and sister take the prize. Their constitution seems to dictate that they stay busy. Lists serve them well and they are masters at checking things off.
Unfortunately I operate a lot like you. I walk outside and the wind is blowing and with it go my thoughts. There is an aroma on the breeze and I want to find where it comes from. I picture how the water in the creek must be up because of the rain and want to go watch the water fall. I long for you to be at my side as I go. Because you are not here to go with me, sometimes it stops me in my tracks.
Your sister and dad are planners. I have to compliment your dad on exercising and stretching his ability to be spontaneous. I am a planner too – sometimes. I prefer to think of myself as flexible. Unfortunately that flexibility sometimes makes space for things to slip through the cracks.
I do not think about you all the time, though I do think about you often and intensely. The intensity seems to be growing. I don’t think it is just the time of the year either. I think it just the way it is and I suspect always will be.
I don’t have pictures of you everywhere right now. I can’t take it. The sight of you makes me collapse emotionally. I feel helpless and the hopelessness destroys resolve to pick myself up and move forward. I feel hope for your sister and her future. I try not to focus my magnifying glass on her because it would be really bad for her. I had such hope for you.
I guess I am afraid to lavish that on anyone else. I have thought about the history when the stock market crashed and men jumped out of windows as they saw the investments that were apparently their life, suddenly gone. Investments. Those things in which we are vested “secured in the possession of assigned to a person” are pretty important. I invested a lot of years in you. We invested a lot of love in you. That love was not squandered. But trying to decide to invest more in something or someone else is frightening. My investment in you was not wasted. It has cemented wonderful memories in my mind but I had hopes for more.
I do not want to push people who desire my affection aside. I do not want to withhold anything out of fear. You freed me to love others when you were here. Loosing you and the pain of that loss makes me hold back in some ways. I have not seen you or held you in almost a year and that is impossible to comprehend.
There was no wasted time spent with you or talking with you. There is no time wasted even when there is nothing to say with your sister or your dad. Many people collect things. I am a collector too. I have stored up so much of you in my heart and mind. I have a sweet collection of the precious things concerning my family. I am thankful I have a family, altered though we are without you.
We are missing you so badly. We are all wandering around in a fog again, dreading a day that is just a date on a calendar. A date that will alter nothing when it passes.
Especially not our love for you.