After a very emotional weekend, this week has turned out to be a little more calm–at least from a Micah perspective.
Part of the reason for the relative emotional calm, I suppose, is that I’ve been so busy this week tending to other things. Our grief group on Monday night helped me get a few things out, but chewed up the whole evening. AZYHL Committee meeting went well and covered a lot of ground on Tuesday night–but took me from work to Oceanside, and not back home again until after 10pm. Our desire to move out of our rental home and back into a home of our own led to us driving around looking at houses yesterday evening with a brief break for a nice dinner (Avi had her first adult menu Prime Rib last night–and ate it all…the little things… :)). Time we got home? Yeah, 9:20pm. Another night bites the dust. Tonight was cooking a nice spaghetti dinner, then taking Avi to Girl Scouts, then to CVS for meds, then Target to get a few things, then back to get Avi, then off to Bahama Bucks for dessert…then home to clean dishes and–write this blog entry.
There have definitely been a few moments this week. Another family member is close to passing away–a more remote member, but someone that was connected to Cynthia. The description of Cynthia’s (half) brother holding his mother’s hand as she nears the end brought back very vivid memories of sitting at Micah’s bedside, holding his hand as he peacefully passed away. I could not close my eyes for hours without seeing that image of Micah’s left eye opening as he took his final breaths, and knowing that my son was at peace–but that I would never talk to him again, never see him perform, never watch him play goal…never discuss politics or music or video games or just random philosophical thoughts again…never see him get married…never hold his children… Sometimes I wonder what those things would have been like…
A silence that fills my house,
Fills my heart,
Fills my soul.
I still talk to my son.
I still hear his voice–
But it’s not the same–
It doesn’t resonate,
It doesn’t have his vibrato,
It is not really my Tenor.
I see his pictures.
But not on, not beyond.
As long as I’m here, he’s here.
As long as his friends feel him, he’s here.
Memories can wither.
Digital pictures and video can be erased.
Love never fades.
A man still deeply missing his son.