Two years....

Dear, Tash -

Well, it’s been two years.  I cannot believe I live in a world where you are not.  It feels like an eternity since I have heard your voice and held your hand.  I always knew you would leave before me – but, I never knew it would be so soon.  I wish I had gone first – my life is so empty without you.  I think about you constantly.  Whenever I see something or hear something new or funny, I instantly think of you, wishing I could share it with you.  I wanted to post something on the two-year “anniversary” – but, my mind has been stuck – I stare at the blinking cursor and wait.  It is not like no words come – the words and thoughts come too fast to sort. 

I miss you.  That goes without saying.  I miss you and love you more than I know how to put into words.  I hope you are happy – that heaven is everything I imagine and more.  I picture you restored to health with a body that no longer hurts – that no longer needs dialysis or a new kidney.  You left so quickly – we didn’t have a chance to say good-bye.  I still worry so much that you were alone when you died.  Were you afraid?  Did you call for me?  I guess I will never know the answers to those questions.  But, they still haunt me many nights.

I often relive the night before you died – the few minutes we had together.  I look at your pictures from that night – I wonder if you knew.  I get mad at myself for not asking you to stay – to go with us – I wonder what might have been different.  If I could have just one more minute, some answers to my questions, maybe then, I could begin to find peace without you.  But, so far, here I sit, with more questions than answers. 

I have done everything I can to find answers.  I meditate – I pray – I read – I listen – but, still, I wonder.  What if everything I believed in is not true?  But, I cannot bear that thought – how could anything be worth doing if it is not true?  I look to everything for a purpose for my life without you.  Like all answers I am seeking, it seems elusive.  But, still I search.  All my life, I have been assured there is a purpose for everything and everyone – now, I can only wonder if that is true.  I can find no purpose for your death – for your life of suffering – NONE!

But, still I search….

I remember that night after Roger called us with such clarity.  Even when the phone rang and I saw it was Roger, I begin to panic and ran to get dressed as I answered the phone.  I think that maybe I knew this because earlier that afternoon, I awoke from a nap to coughing, like someone choking.  When I jumped out of bed, to check on the dogs, I found it wasn’t them – but, I felt scared because it felt so real.  I couldn’t go back to sleep – I just felt like something was off.  So, when Roger called, it all started to come together, and, I knew from the time he spoke that you were gone.  Your dad didn’t believe it – but, I knew.  He didn’t believe it until he saw you.  I remember the officers and everyone there.  The kindest one was an officer with the last name Moffatt – I know now that was not a coincidence.  I remember everything – sometimes, I wish I didn’t.  Other parents talk about the fog and not remembering “that night” – what their child looked like – but, me, I remember EVERYTHING!  Most days I am thankful for my good memory – my knack for the details of the past.

We always had a deep connection – our hearts formed a link and bound together in a way that was impossible for anyone else to come between.  Sure there were times the bonds were tried – bent – but, they always bounced back.  I sometimes still feel that connection and hope it is true – and, not just my mind playing crazy tricks on me.  It must be true that death does not end a relationship – a love – like ours.  I wish I could be content with that – that it was enough.

Since you have died, I have found so many things – odd things – are they signs? -  I hope they are all really from you.  It is one of the things that keep me going.  Someone told me this week that I just to have to have faith – to stop letting my intelligence look for rational answers that may not exist.  You know me, Tash.  I am full of questions – that “have faith” thing is not so easy for me.  If it was, your teenage years would have been much easier for you every time you told me to just trust you!  But, again, I am trying.

You know it won’t be long before we lose Jake here.   I hope and pray that when he leaves our arms, he enters yours.  No one loved Jake more than you.  From the first day we saw him at the SPCA, from the first moment, you wanted him and nothing we could say would dissuade you.  Of course, you were right – he was the best dog – he still is.  I know you will take good care of him until we see each other again, and, I know he will be happy to see you – and to shed his body that is giving him so much pain.

I hope that you see what we are trying to do with YOUR foundation and I hope you are pleased by what you see.  I have met so many grieving parents since you died, and, so many of them are grieving the child they wished they had – or only the good characteristics of the child they lost – so many fail to grieve the whole person.  I work hard on not doing that.  I understand what they are doing, trying to give their child something that feels worthwhile – some kind of big “wave” in the river of life.  I would much rather mourn ALL of you – the good and the bad – and, enjoy the ripples of good that continue to spread in that river.  That is one of the reasons we decided to start the foundation – to continue the ripple-effect, if you will.  These scholarships will give others a chance they might not have had, sure – that is the unselfish reason for awarding them.  But, the selfish reason is that it allows us to keep your name and your memory alive.  It gives us another reason to hear others speak your name – others who never had a chance to know you and see your courage – and, the smile that lit up the world.  I wish I could ask your opinion.  We are going to try to do more – want to do things that really mean something – which you would have liked.  Sometimes, I really wonder if we are going the right direction – I just have to trust that we are (remember what I said about that trust and blind faith thing!) – and that you would be proud.

While I’m writing, I keep thinking about being angry.  I know that’s not fair – but, sometimes, that’s how I feel.  Not angry – not mad – but, FUCKING PISSED OFF!  You often thought you were alone – that people didn’t care.  Did you see all the people at your visitation – at your funeral????  Do you have any idea how many people contact me – show up to your balloon releases – and tell me how much you meant to them?  How you made a difference in their lives?  If you had known that then, would you have fought harder?  Would it have made a difference?  Sometimes, I look at these people and get angry, as well, wondering where they were when you were needing them.  Did they wait too long?  I don’t know – according to all the “experts” on grief, the anger is normal – but, it is the most difficult emotion I feel.  I am just not sure who to be mad at – or what good it will do me.  Anger, in this situation, is a wasted emotion.  No amount of anger will bring you back or help me feel closer to you.  So, most days, I try to focus on the love…

I love you – I have always loved – I will always love you.  Nothing will change that – not even your death.  I know I cannot see you any more or hear your voice.  But, I talk to you every day, and, as I meditate, I listen for your answers.  Sometimes, I hear them – not always.  But, I always listen.  I am still waiting for answers, knowing they may not come until my own death.  There have been days – many of them – in which I considered making that sooner than later.  I am still here, though.  I wish I just had one more minute – like a game of twenty questions – where I could get the answers I feel like I need to go on and live my life without you.  I hope that through finding some purpose that many of those questions will answer themselves.  I never thought I could live without – I surprise myself with everything that I do which takes me out of my comfort zone.  But, I never love you less – I never miss you less – There is never anything that will fill the hole you have left in our lives.

I love you forever – I love you for always – as long as I am living, your mommy I will be….