Opposite Sides of the Same Coin

Eighteen months in and still, most moments in my day are filtered through the lens of losing my son.  Thankfully, a little less frequently, and for the most part, with reduced intensity.  Two recent experiences in particular come to mind.  Both nonevents to an outsider, yet milestones for me.  Firstly, the entire twenty-four hours of August 7th passed without registering the significance of that date at all.  The first time, since March 7th, when I did not reflect upon a one month marker. Largely due to being out of the country and in a completely different time zone.  While observing this the following morning, I was enheartened. Pleasantly surprised.  Secondly, later that month, after an evening of exploring Zurich with a Swiss friend, I returned to my hotel room.  It was only then when I realized that not once had I thought of the loss during that entire six hour excursion.  The longest stretch by far during this year and a half.  In both cases, it was recognizing the absence of something that left me feeling encouraged.  Seeing what was not there. Experiencing opposite sides of the same coin.  This coin most definitely a penny.

Thirteen Months

Thirteen months today.  Spending this morning working on the 2nd Annual Mike Gibson Golf Tournament to be held in early June.  Then heading over to Boal Memorial to pay my respects.  His dad golfing with friends on this beautiful sunny day.  Wearing a sweater that belonged his son.  Finding a measure of comfort in that.  

Postcard From Hawaii

Very much appreciating these rejuvenating days in the sun.  Yet, there is no escaping the loss.  No place on earth exists where that would that be possible.  Not even here in paradise.  Marking eleven months today. Thinking about you innumerable times, each and every hour.  While swimming with the honus and asking to share their strength.  In conversation with the affable young man considering a job opportunity in Alberta.  When spotting the handcrafted transparent shell ornament consisting of two doves with a heart suspended between them.  And so many of the moments in-between.  Postcard from Hawaii.  Michael, wish you were here.