You are currently browsing the daily archive for October 9, 2011.
It’s your 36th birthday and I just have to say a few things. I wept one morning last week on my ride to work when a woman who had lost her husband to the anthrax attack in DC, said she still expected him to come in the door and sit down to dinner, even though it’s been so many years. Your mother and I talk about this, and we feel the same way. Does that mean you are close by? It’s still an impossibility, your death, never mind that it happened two years ago. We miss you so much and the world is a poorer place.
Jude is learning to skate, and you would have loved to show him your tricks and your love of skating. Rachael is having another baby boy who will not be as lucky to have you be his manny. You would have been such a great father!
I try and be there for your mom and dad as they regretfully grow into life without you. We talk about you all the time! Your mother has the most amazing memory for things you’ve said and done. I love to quote you on Monday mornings when we all feel like our weekend was two seconds long.
At least we concede that your short life did not go un-lived. You devoured every day. You celebrated holidays so beautifully, especially Halloween. Your costumes were wonderful, even as an adult. I’m inspired by you! You were such an unselfconscious person, and that gave you the ability to accept others and love them just as they are. Your kindness and generosity of spirit made it impossible not to love you.
All of us who love you keep you alive in our memories and our hearts, for losing you changed us all. Tristan, your soul brother, Van, TJ and Dave, your “real” brothers, Betsy and Scotty, my Ben, Rachael, me. We are not the same. My touchstones are your mosaic fish, fireworks, the incredible drawings you did as a child-a baby, really. The urn holding your precious ashes draws me-I always lay my hand on its cool surface when I’m at your house, and let memories of you vibrate through me. I send you love and peace. Even though part of me thinks you’ll walk in the door again.
So we’ll have a birthday dinner in your honor, and celebrate your life. We’ll think of you. We’ll hug and cry, each of us dealing with loss in our own way. You’ll be there, a never-ending presence, unforgotten and always loved.
