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….
