I Still Call Bullshit

This morning, while placing flowers at the memorial plaque engraved with my son's birth and death dates, the voice in my head is still calling bullshit.  On a soul level, I understand Michael's passing, however, as his mother, I doubt if it will ever make sense.  The accident happened two and a half years ago today.  It might as well be two and a half months ago, since time has done little, if anything, to alter my day-to-day reality with respect to this intense loss.  How could it?  He is gone. He will never again give me a hug, never again call me on the phone, never again sit down to a family meal.  Regardless of what is happening in my day, experiencing joy or sadness or anything in-between, this companion called grief is with me, always.  I would not have anticipated this is how it would be, but as with any profound life experience, you don't know until you are in it.

Thanksgiving Trailer Style

Spending the final week of our trailer trip here in sunny Palm Springs.  My husband choosing this deluxe RV resort for us to stay in, before heading home.  Manicured gardens, hundreds of palm trees, numerous birds, and gracious staff.  Enjoying a run this morning, followed by a long swim in one of the two outdoor pools after lunch.  Looking forward to a complimentary turkey meal with all the trimmings, at the clubhouse later on.  Celebrating American Thanksgiving.  How easy it is to be thankful in such opulence.  And yet, while relaxing in a lounge chair on the patio, overhearing complaints from some fellow guests nonetheless.  Most of them travelling in large, luxurious units.  Usually pulling an additional vehicle.  One commenting on how dreadful the next four years will be, referring to the political situation.  Another holding court in the hot tub, with his hard luck story of a having a flat tire.  A third seriously annoyed by the flies.   Leaving me tempted to work in that classic line of,  "My diamond slippers are getting too small,"  during dinner conversation, between the stuffing and the pie.              

Conflicted

Collecting ideas about how to best mark the one year anniversary next week.  The obvious visit to Boal Memorial.  Then gathering here at home with his sisters and brothers-in-law for mutual emotional support.  Relighting the gold candles used at his service.  Watching family videos.  Perhaps working on that unfinished puzzle Michael and Kelly had started, still lingering under the chair.  For dinner, ordering Chinese or preparing chicken fajitas.  The latter option reflecting the meal they created for us the day before leaving for their last cabin weekend.  Later, possibly playing a game together.   All simple but meaningful activities.  Connecting us to memories and the energy of our son and brother.  However, behind all this planning, certainly feeling conflicted.  On the one hand, focusing on honouring how much he meant to us and how deeply he is missed.  On the other, desperately wishing he were physically here instead. 

Sharing Laughs

Reading "Zits" comic strip in the Sunday funnies yesterday.  The one cartoon Michael and I regularly shared laughs over.  Right til the end. Both of us recognizing our mother/son relationship so accurately mirrored there.  First frame, dated January 8, 2012.  Mother on the phone.  "Hello Olive Garden? I'd like to make a reservation for three for my son's birthday."  This story concluding with the teenage son making last minute changes to the plans.  Leaving his mom banging her head against the wall.  Really?  Same birthday???  Immediately recognizing this sign from my witty son.  Still sharing laughs.  Offering up humour to lighten the load.  Our family and two friends later marking Michael's birthday at The Old Spaghetti Factory.  The idea leaping in a couple of months ago.  This inexpensive restaurant with its lively energy always his first pick for a dinner out.  Our group acknowledging the significance of this day with stories and laughter over a meal.  Helping to take the edge of an extremely difficult occasion. 

Illuminating Visit

Invited to their townhouse to share an evening meal.  A visit with extended family.  Enjoying tasty appetizers in the living room.  Then taking our seats around their dining room table.  Beneath the glistening chandelier.  Chatting, eating, and laughing together.   Halfway through, mentioning Michael's name.  Prompted by the topic of conversation.  The light bulbs above instantly beginning a flickering dance. This chandelier once again showing us that his energy was there.  My daughter and I making eye contact.  The five of us in awe.  Big smiles all around.  Gratefully witnessing it first hand.  The oscillating bulbs indicating his obvious presence for close to half an hour.  Then settling back down into a steady glow.  Lingering over desert.  Once again reassured of his continued existence.  So thankful for his illuminating visit!