One year ago today was the last day I spent in the company of my son.The last day I heard his voice with my own ears, watched his eyes dance or listened to him laugh. Run my fingers through his thick, thick hair and suggest he get a hair cut, which he did, that very day. I remember telling how good he looked with his hair cut. I remember how proud he was of it.
It was the last day I put my arms around him and felt the warmth of his rough skin as I hugged him, felt him hug me back.
The last time I would say to him in person “Momma loves you” and hear his consistent response “I love you too, mom.”
In less than a month he would be gone.
Yes I had talked to him many times on the phone after that and we always told each other we loved each other. But September 27th was the very last time it would be done in person. I can still see him laughing and waving goodbye from the passenger seat as Jamie pulled the car out of the drive way.
I see that grin and wave every day of my life in my mind and heart. I want to badly to see it once again in reality, but I’ve not been favored with insanity so I know I won’t be seeing it again on this side of the river.
I have spent the last eleven months carrying on as if its okay – but you know its not. It can’t be, never will be. I pretend to be both brave and polite and tell myself and others that it will be different once a full year has passed.
I am a liar.
7 comments:
We're both liars, Cara. I don't know why we feel like that one year mark will make everything ok again. It's just a day, just another day in this long and empty life that we're left behind to live without the one person that made it all worth while. Everyone keeps saying that time will make it easier, but I'm starting to think that they just say that because they don't know what else to say. Because you know as well as I do that time isn't doing a thing except passing us by. Nothing will ever make this easier. It's been a year and I still wake up at night and can't breath. Time won't change that. But what choice do we have. Until someone figures out how to stop time we're stuck having to live it. Thank God we have each other. Without you, I would be completely lost. I love you Cara!
I love you too Jamie and somehow we will get through this - somehow.
Oh...a year ago...that is rough Cara...
I know my brother wasn't my son or my boyfriend/husband...but I loved him like a son (I wrote about this on another comment). My mom had been sick when he was born and my sis and I did a lot of the raising...
Anyway, I'm going to say it from experience....coming from my point of view...it does get better..one day you wake up and smell flowers or the sun is shining in a certain way and you are soooo certain that whatever created all this, created a life force in each one of us that does live on and lives on in a "good" way after they leave this time and space...because what God creates is all good...I hope I didn't overstep my bounds here...I wouldn't want to offend either of you..
Cara, don't feel like you have to post this after viewing it...
But the peaceful nights do come back and the long deep breaths do reappear and the questions of why, finally do disappear....
Sandy I appreciate your empathy and encouragement so much - Thank you again - Cara
OH..your so welcome. I lived through the pain and hope you come to that brightness again...I believe he is around you...cause love never dies...I feel my brothers around often.
I feel hopeful reading Sandy's comment.
To both of you though, I think of you often. I admire that you're creating your blog and going on. What else is there to do as Jamie points out.
Wishing for peace and nice dreams of Andrew for you both.
You know something funny Mary - I have come to realize that having peace about something doesn't mean its not still painful. Hum...I need to write that in my blog. Its so strange to say that I made peace with his passing but not with the pain of loss, but its the truth.
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