I sit in the dark in the tree swing in our back yard. A place I seem to find every time I need to be quiet with you and think, connect and reflect. A place that feels so familiar to me. And yet- it’s a place in our back yard you never knew. I remember wanting a swing after you passed so I could sit outside and rock with Aria. In survival mode and not thinking clearly I googled and found a post about wrapping a tow rope around the branch like 10 times ( so it wouldn’t hurt the tree like tree swing things do apparently). I bought the swing and the tow rope on Amazon, and one day when all our guy friends were here to help with yard work and other honey-do’s, they chuckled quietly and hung my swing from the damn tree with a tow rope. It’s crazy to me how many moments I’ve had in my life in this tree swing. But none of them were with you. Yet they were about you.
I can’t help but sing in my head Evanescence My Immortal.
Your presence still lingers here, and it won’t leave me alone. These wounds won’t seem to heal, this pain is just too real, there’s just so much that time can not erase….
I don’t live in this pain every day anymore- thank goodness. But as I’ve said repeatedly, when I sit in it - it is no different than the first night.
We had an evening just like this. A beautiful fall evening, comfortable to be outside on the back deck that we helped build. We gathered, smiled, laughed. We held each other up just by being together but we were falling apart. We all dreaded when the time came to go to bed and be alone with our thoughts. Our reality. Our life without you.
So much of that first year - or two… was and still is such a blur. Honestly the past 8 years have been a blur. And I don’t know if that’s just how it is once you become a parent? I don’t know because I never got to experience just the drastic life change of becoming a parent. I was also loosing you, and then grieving the loss of you and figuring out how to be an only parent. And from then on I just haven’t stopped going, going, going. I don’t know where I’m going, I just seem to need to do all the things because I just want to live and experience. Because what I value so much as I think back on our 10 years together is all the experiences we had. Those are the memories that flood back. And I am so grateful we did the things we did and we did life with the people we did.
And so I continue to look for the experiences, make the connections, do the things - because life is short. And maybe because I am still running from the quiet. And have some serious FOMO…so thanks for that. (Chuckle)
And so I come here, every Father’s Day, every August 22nd, every September 23rd (and if our anniversary wasn’t March 25th which is usually a blizzard) to be here in the quiet with my thoughts of you. And it brings me memories both good and bad, awareness of broken dreams, the return of heartache and tears. And yet here I am - surrounding myself in quiet to be with my thoughts of you. Because even every moment that brings me pain is bittersweet because it is still about you.
Side note: I wrote this just as a journal entry - the conscious stream of thought type. Just blah blah blah - get it out. And as I reread it, it felt right to just share it - in its rawness
